13 Mom's The Word
by MissDoctorDonna
Summary: Lucky 13 in my Brothers Series. This one sees the arrival of a new woman in town, the curiosity of the seven and the consequences of her unexpected appearance. No Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Sadly, I don't own the boys. Any characters found in my stories that aren't in the television series are mine. Horse's names are from other fanfiction and I thank the person who came up with them.**

Vin Tanner was a happy man; warmly snuggled down under the soft clean covers with his brother breathing softly beside him. Ezra had been in the clinic for a week, recovering from his ordeal at the hands of those who'd robbed their bank and the resultant migraine, but had been liberated that day. Chris had been sharing the bed with the tracker, but he and Buck had left that day on business for the Judge. Fearing he was in for a restless night, the young Texan had been overjoyed when Ezra had entered the saloon just after lunch calling for a shot of his favourite Scotch to celebrate his newly regained freedom.

Inhaling the scent of cologne, good Scotch, lavender and something uniquely Ezra, Vin smiled softly as a sense of safety and contentment washed over him. His mind had created a nightmarish jumble of the memories of the savagery of killing the sentry with his bare hands and the residual fear of finding his brother too late. The resulting terrors his unconscious mind produced had been jolting him from sleep multiple times a night whilst Ezra had been in the clinic. Chris wasn't really a cuddler, but he'd tried to comfort Vin in his own gruff way, speaking soothingly and patting the tracker's trembling shoulder until the younger man slid back into an uneasy sleep. Dreams of settling Adam after the child's night terrors had woken him had then drifted through Chris' mind each night once he'd returned to his own slumber.

"What's troubling you, Vin?"

Startled from his dark thoughts, Vin tried to see Ezra's face through the darkness shrouding the room. Unable to see much more than a pair of eyes gleaming in the soft moonlight, he shrugged awkwardly and replied, "I's fine."

A warm chuckle broke from the gambler, as he turned onto his side to face the younger man, saying fondly, "Now I know there's something wrong. What is it, Vin? The truth now."

Ducking his head, Vin scrunched down into the pillow and blankets, trying to avoid giving an answer that he was sure would disappoint and possibly alienate his older brother.

Frowning to himself, Ezra noted the way Vin's body had tensed even further after his prompt. The rigidity was most unusual, since Vin was now so comfortable sharing the bed that in normal circumstances he became almost liquid as soon as the sheets had heated to body temperature. Taking a firm but gentle hold of the tracker's slender wrist despite Vin's attempt to withdraw his hand, Ezra's frown deepened when he felt the faster than normal pulse beneath his fingers. Hand travelling up to stroke the backs of his fingers lightly over the Texan's stubbled cheek, he murmured, "It's alright, Vin. Just tell me what's wrong and we'll work it out together."

Sighing deeply, Vin resigned himself to getting no sleep until he'd answered Ezra and braced himself before saying, "I's been havin' some trouble sleepin' since ya got snatched by them no-account, low down, dirty, mangy, thieving, murderin' …"

Laughing, Ezra interrupted, "Yes, yes, I get the idea. Go on."

"Well, I's been thinkin' on what mighta happened iffun I's too late. Or iffun I'd missed a sign or sumthin'. How I'da felt iffun ya'd been d… iffun ya'd been dead when we got there…," mumbled Vin, his voice choked with emotion, unconsciously pushing his face towards Ezra's hand seeking reassurance.

"It's easy to start imagining all sorts of terrible scenarios when something like this happens, but you have to stop yourself and remember that I am alright, Vin. Thanks to you, Buck and Chris, I am fit and healthy and right here with you. Nothing terrible happened, the miscreants are all dead and everything is just fine," soothed the gambler, running his fingers through the long hair of his brother, trying to smooth away his distress. Feeling the head under his hand nod but not feeling the tension in his younger brother's body release, he asked, "What else?"

Freezing, Vin asked, "Ain't that enough?"

Smiling, Ezra shook his head and said, "No. There's something else and I mean to know what it is, sir."

Turning over so his back was to the southerner when Ezra ended his statement with a teasing poke to the Texan's chest, Vin hugged himself and growled, "Ain't nuthin' else."

Ezra settled into his pillow and waited patiently, humming softly to let his troubled brother know that he hadn't fallen asleep, believing that given time Vin would open up to him eventually.

Stubbornness reigned for fifteen minutes before Vin finally cracked and rasped desperately, "Dunno how ya can bear being 'round me, 's all. I's nuthin' but an animal. Soon as I found out ya'd been hurt and snatched, that ya might be d-dead, I's like a starved cougar. Nothin' mattered but tha hunt. Yer Ma was frettin' on ya 'n I's near ta shakin' her with impatience 'cos she was getting' in tha way o' ma hunt. What does that say 'bout me, Ez, that I's willin' ta shake a sick 'n worried woman?"

"If the woman in question is my muthah, it says that you're like every person who's ever met her. I love my muthah dearly, Vin, but she can be a trying woman," chuckled the gambler, patting the distraught man on the back. "Especially when she's trying to be protective."

Shaking his head in denial, Vin continued his confession, "'S more than that. I's so mad, Ez. So damn mad that someone had taken ya from me. That someone mighta taken ya from me forever. 'S like I weren't even there no more. Like all I was … all that made me ME jist went away. All that was left was tha hunter. So I hunted. 'N when I found ma prey, I reached out 'n I crushed tha life from it wit' ma bare hands… snapped that bandit's neck like he's nuthin'…"

Silence once again filled the room, heavy and oppressive.

"I awoke in total darkness. All I could hear was pebbles trickling down the walls and the deep breathing of another person. My head hurt and I wasn't thinking clearly, but I knew I couldn't just strike out at the other person as it may have been you or Chris. I dragged myself over, guiding myself by the sound of the breathing, until I was close enough to touch them. I checked the hair, but it was short, so I knew it wasn't you. I felt the face and found a heavy beard, so I knew it wasn't one of the others. Then I heard the person's breathing change as he woke and in a moment of blind panic I lifted the rock that I was leaning on and stove in his cranium with repeated blows. As I knelt beside the body, with the rank smell of blood and death all around me in the darkness, I realised that I could have just killed a fellow prisoner. An innocent. As I sat in my cold, dank prison despairing of my own actions, I heard the voices of my brothers and blindly followed them home."

Silence settled as Ezra finished speaking. Vin clutched the blankets in a double grip, his hands in tight fists of rage as he thought of what the bandits had put Ezra through.

Breathing in deeply, Ezra dragged his thoughts back from the darkness and focussed on the trembling man in front of him. Rubbing circles over Vin's back, he continued, "All men, and quite a lot of women, are capable of savagery, Vin. We live in violent times and that isn't likely to change any time soon. However, the difference between us and the miscreants that we deal with is that we resort to savagery only as a last resort. We do not enjoy it. We do not revel in it… and we are remorseful after using it. What you did is entirely understandable under the circumstances, as is what I did. But the fact that we regret doing it is what separates us from the animals."

Stiffening, Vin growled indignantly, "Ain't sorry I killed him, Ez."

"No, nor am I. But I am sorry for the manner in which I killed him. If I have to kill then I prefer to do it when my opponent is armed and facing me, rather than striking from the darkness like a coward."

Relaxing again as he realised that Ezra understood how he felt, Vin nodded and drawled, "Yeah, guess that 'bout covers it."

"Vin, you are a good man. Make your peace that you acted as you had to and don't worry over this anymore," urged Ezra, squeezing the Texan's shoulder tightly. "After all, if you consider yourself an animal for doing what you did, then you must also consider me one. And Chris, for what he had to do whilst incarcerated in the heinous prison. I'm sure that the others, except perhaps young JD, have all been forced into acts of bare handed violence at some point or another in their lives."

"Yer right, Ez. Reckon it's jist gonna take some time ta get it ta lay right 'n ma mind proper, but I can see it clearer now. Thanks, brother," breathed Vin gratefully, feeling the burden fall from his shoulders and wondering why he hadn't talked it over with the clever southerner sooner.

Ezra patted Vin's shoulder again, noting that the stiffness had lessened, and rolled onto his back saying, "Anytime, Vin. You know that I'm always here for you."

Rolling over to his other side and reaching out under the covers to stealthily take a light hold of his brother's flannel nightshirt sleeve, Vin wriggled to make himself more comfortable then sighed as he finally released the last of his tension and slid into a peaceful sleep.

Waking up after a marvellously restful night, Ezra gently untangled Vin's long fingers from his sleeve before creeping from the bed and starting his morning ablutions as silently as possible. Just as he was sitting on the rocking chair to put his boots on, Vin rolled onto his back and yawned like a lion whilst stretching his arms and legs to their fullest. Watching in quiet amusement, the gambler witnessed a groggy Vin drag himself out from under the covers and sit on the edge of the bed with his eyes still closed, smacking his lips and scratching himself in a desultory fashion.

"Good morning, Vin. Ready for breakfast?"

Grunting to signify that he'd heard the man, Vin moved his hand lower to satisfy an itch in a different part of his anatomy. Once done, he groaned as he hauled himself upright and staggered over to the chamber pot to relieve himself. Baker was still curled up in his bed, but had lifted his head to rest it on the side of the box so he could watch his master with bright, curious eyes. The dog was nothing if not intelligent and had learned not to get underfoot in the morning after being stepped on or kicked accidentally a couple of times.

Half an hour later saw the two friends sitting downstairs around their usual table in the company of Josiah, Nathan and JD. Dirty plates and empty mugs were all that remained of five large breakfasts.

Pushing away Ezra's plate after finishing what the gambler couldn't eat as well as his own full plate, the tracker rubbed his full stomach happily and released a mighty belch, murmuring, "'Scuse me."

Deep guffaws broke from Josiah when Nathan slyly remarked, "Better out than in… so long as it's from that end."

JD's giggle morphed into a laugh like a hyena and was soon joined by Nathan's dry chuckle as Vin blushed a deep red at Nathan's comment and muttered, "Hell, I ain't Bucklin, ya know."

Shaking his head with fond indulgence at the coarseness of his family, Ezra suddenly tilted his head in an attitude of listening. Glancing out the front window, he lifted an eyebrow as he saw a horse and buggy roll down the street with a tall, austere woman at the reins. Rising with a quietly murmured excuse, Ezra glided to the doors and peered over them to follow the progress of the buggy.

Those left at the table looked at each other quickly before scrambling to follow their southern brother, as Ezra pushed the doors open and went to stand on the porch.

"Who've ya spotted, Ez?"

"I'm not sure, Vin. But does anything about the lady pulling up in front of the hotel strike you as familiar?"

All five men immediately focussed their attention on the new arrival. Tall for a woman, probably around five foot eight inches, she had the bearing of a person who was accustomed to being obeyed. Shoulders were squared and head was kept up at all times, hair swept back into a tidy and sensible bun at the base of her neck. There was no fashionable bonnet, rather a well-worn plainsman hat rested on her grey hair. A long black winter coat in a sturdy, durable material hid the clothes underneath, but if they were the same as the coat they would be plain and hardy. Suddenly those sharp eyes caught sight of the men gathered on the porch, causing all five men to give a collective gasp.

Striding along towards the men gathered on the front porch of the saloon, the woman moved with a sureness of purpose that belied her age. Stopping in front of the first man, a nattily dressed gambler, she offered her hand and a terse, "Mr Standish, I presume."

Squeezing the gloved hand gently, Ezra gave a sharp half bow and replied, "I am indeed Ezra P. Standish, and I am at your service, Mrs Larabee."

"I suppose that my son is in there," queried Mrs Larabee with a frown, withdrawing her hand and nodding towards the inside of the saloon. "And no doubt that rascal he runs with is out corrupting some poor girl."

"Oh no, ma'am," piped up JD, almost quivering with excitement at the thought of meeting another of his friends' mothers. He'd thought they'd all lost their Ma's, except Ez of course. "Chris and Buck had to go out of town on business for the judge."

Eyes that were the same shade as the solemn gunslingers, with much the same intensity, honed in on JD before they went from face to face as Margaret Larabee sized up the men. She'd been shocked when news of her son's survival had reached her, having long since giving him over to God. To find that he was not only alive, but was making a new life in this dusty little town had given her hope. Much to her eldest daughter's dismay and her youngest daughter and all her grandchildren's urging, she had immediately announced her intention to go visit her boy.

"Mr Standish, I want to thank you for letting me know of my son's whereabouts. We had long since fallen out of contact and I believe that he would never have told me on his own," stated Margaret, clasping her hands in front of her and shrugging one shoulder with a half-smile very like her son's.

Vin stepped forward then and offered quietly, "No ma'am, I know fer a fact that Chris jist wrote ya'll a real long letter, telling yer all about us 'n sending ya a photograph n' all. Ya must've passed it on yer way here."

Nodding, Margaret eyed the scruffy looking man in front of her keenly, replying, "Be that as it may, young man, I've not heard anything good of Christopher since just before the tragedy that claimed my daughter-in-law and grandson."

Realising that whilst Chris' mother recognised him from his obvious profession, she was less sure of his brothers' identities so Ezra hastened to introduce them all.

"Forgive my lack of manners, Mrs Larabee. Please allow me to introduce you to my friends and fellow peacekeepers. The young man you just spoke to is Vin Tanner; the distinguished gentleman to my right is Josiah Sanchez; this gentleman is Nathan Jackson and the young man who is currently bouncing at your elbow is John Daniel Dunne, better known as JD," stated the southerner, with a mild frown at JD's behaviour.

"Pleased to meet ya, Mrs Larabee," chirped JD, oblivious to Ezra's subtle warning to calm down, "Gotta say I was real surprised to see ya this morning. I thought all of us had lost our Ma's, 'cept Ez here, of course. How'd ya find out Chris was here? Musta taken ya a while to get all the way here from Indiana. Say, what was Chris like as a young'un? Was he as serious as he is now? 'Cos I gotta say he's real cranky at times."

The look of subdued astonishment on Mrs Larabee's face was so close to the one often seen on Chris' face after one of JD's overly exuberant bursts, that it made most of the men hide their grins behind their hands or hats.

Realising that Mrs Larabee had completed a long and arduous journey, Ezra stepped forward and crooked his elbow, asking, "Please allow me to escort you back to the hotel, Mrs Larabee. I will procure you one of its finest rooms, where you can rest and refresh yourself. I can have some tea or coffee brought up there, along with a small selection of comestibles from our newly opened bakery. Young JD will be more than happy to take your horse and buggy over to the livery for you. There is plenty of time for a more thorough introduction later. Perhaps you'd be amenable to joining us for dinner at the restaurant at say seven thirty?"

Taking the charming man's arm, Margaret favoured him with a half-smile and replied, "I'm not terribly fatigued, Mr Standish, as I only travelled from Eagle Bend this morning and was there for a day of rest. However, I'd like a chance to put up my belongings and settle in. I'm assuming that my son doesn't have a house so I can stay with him."

"Chris does have a sh… ahem, a cabin outside of town, but it's hardly fitting for guests," answered Ezra, stumbling over his classification of his older brother's shack, "When he's in town, he has a room at the boarding house that is part of his wages. Once again, not someplace that he could have guests. It would be best if you were to stay in comfort at the hotel."

"If you'd like, I could meet you and take you on a brief tour of our small town after you've freshened up, Mrs Larabee," offered Josiah, his voice deep and respectful. "Perhaps we could all meet for lunch at the restaurant, instead of supper."

"That sounds like a fine idea, Mr Sanchez," agreed Margaret, casting a curious eye over the oldest member of her son's friends. At sixty years of age herself, she judged Josiah to be around fifty or near enough. Still a prime specimen of manhood though, as indeed were all of the five men she'd met this morning. Noting the respectful greetings of the people they passed, she started to feel the anxiety regarding her son ease a little. It seemed that he had found a fine group of men to associate with, rather than the dissolute group of gunslingers she'd been led to believe by that ragged piece of fiction that her son-in-law, George, had brought home. Magnificent Seven, indeed!

Having delivered Mrs Larabee and her luggage to the suite next to the one his own mother favoured and arranged for a kettle of fresh, hot water to be delivered, Ezra wandered back out onto the street only to be pounced on by his four friends.

"Ez! Why didn't ya tell us that Chris' Ma was coming?"

Frowning at JD's loud cry, Ezra shook off the boy's hold on his sleeve and said, "Because I was unaware of her intentions, myself. Surely you don't think I would have allowed Chris to go off to Skunkwater if I'd known his mother was coming all the way from Indiana to see him."

"Oh, no, guess not," mumbled the boy, thinking at a mile a minute.

"But ya did tell 'er 'bout Chris n' where he was," nudged Vin, wanting to hear the whole story.

"Well, no. As part of my investigations into that she-devil, Ella Gaines, I had Byron check into any living relatives of Chris' to ensure that she hadn't caused any further evil. I also asked him to give them a subtle warning about Ella, but I didn't know he'd given up Chris' location or any information regarding my own person. Having met Mrs Larabee, however, I can see that she wouldn't rest until she had all the facts. Must be where her son gets it from…" mused Ezra, strolling along the boardwalks with his friends trailing along behind.

Reaching out to stop the gambler, Josiah queried, "Are you going to send a telegram to Chris in Skunkwater to get him back here?"

"The plan was that he would be back tomorrow afternoon anyway and I don't want him distracted on the ride back. What if some nefarious soul decides to waylay him because he was thinking on the reunion? No, I think it best if we allow things to run their course. Having come all this distance, I can't see Mrs Larabee turning around and heading home without seeing her boy, can you?"

Josiah shook his head.

"Anyway, JD could you take Mrs Larabee's horse and buggy over to the livery for her, please? Nathan, I'm sure that Archie is expecting you for your morning's instruction. Josiah, I imagine that you're going to wait on Mrs Larabee in the lobby of the hotel. Vin, you're on morning patrol, aren't you? As for myself, I'm due over at the jail for my shift. Not that anything is happening, but we must be seen to be earning our paltry wages rather than loitering on the boardwalk," urged the gambler, taking his watch from his pocket to check the time. "We should all meet at the restaurant to meet up with Josiah and Mrs Larabee at one o'clock sharp."

Everyone scattered after agreeing to the time, with more than a few backward glances towards the hotel and the lure of Chris' mother.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

JD claimed the biggest table at the restaurant and waited there eagerly for the others to arrive. Unable to believe that his hero's mother was alive and in his town, JD sat squirming with excitement and fiddling nervously with the water glass and utensils set out for him. As the door opened, he looked up eagerly, only to slump with disappointment as Mr Conklin entered.

Margaret Larabee was enjoying the company of the oldest member of the seven peacekeepers. She'd freshened up in her room, which was much nicer than most of the ones she'd stayed in during her long journey, before joining Josiah downstairs in the lobby. On his arm, she'd been shown the entire town and been introduced to many of the inhabitants. Currently sitting on a pew in the restored church, she smiled as she reflected on the praise that everyone she'd met had bestowed on her boy.

"It's nearly time to join the others, Margaret. Shall we start over to the restaurant?"

Lifting her eyes to see Josiah with his hand outstretched, Margaret accepted his offer and allowed him to help her to her feet, saying, "I believe that would be a fine idea, Josiah."

With no-one in the jail, Ezra felt no guilt in locking up and heading over to the restaurant for his midday repast. Seeing Vin emerge from the livery after his shortened patrol, he waited patiently for the younger man to catch up with him.

"All quiet, Vin?"

"Yup. Did a quick scout 'round 'n didn't find anything ta suggest trouble comin'," replied the tracker, taking his hat off and running a hand through his hair to tidy it. After giving his horse a swift rub down, he'd used the brush on his coat to remove as much dust as possible. Then he'd washed his hands and face at the pump at the back of the livery, wanting to make a good impression on his older brother's mother. "Chris was talkin' 'bout cutting back on tha patrols now. Been so quiet, he reckons that word has spread that it don't pay ta start trouble 'round Four Corners no more."

"Whilst I don't want to become complacent, particularly after our little brouhaha with bank last week, I do agree that we need not be quite so vigilant. However, I think that we should still schedule at least one patrol a day that takes in the outer areas, just to ensure that all the newcomers to the area are aware of the town and its services. Also, that they're coping with their new lives," commented Ezra, opening the door to the restaurant for Vin and nodding to Nathan as he approached from the direction of the clinic.

"Thanks, Ez. Archie sends his regrets, but he decided to take his lunch with your Ma, instead of the restaurant. Says he don't want to spend too much time in crowded areas," said Nathan, as he entered through the door Ez still held and took his hat off.

"That's probably the wisest course of action, given his circumstances. Such a shame for such a gregarious man to be struck with such a contagious disease," remarked Ezra, fretfully, entering after his brothers and following them to the table where JD was waiting for them impatiently.

"Hey fellas! What took ya so long? I've been waiting for ages," greeting JD, in a near shout.

Taking his watch from his pocket, Ezra flipped open the case and noted that he was not only on time, he was a few minutes early. A slight frown marred his face as he replied chidingly, "Inside voice, JD. We're right here, not across town. As for taking a long time, we're all a little early, so calm yourself."

Taking a huge breath, the boy from Boston tried to calm himself but his excitement couldn't be contained. With a burst of energy that nearly knocked over the glass of milk sitting before him, he started talking whilst waving his hands around enthusiastically, "But Ez, how can ya be so calm? How often can ya say that ya've met the mother of a legend? I mean, we can finally find out all about Chris and what he was like as a kid and hear all about the things he used to get up to and all the trouble he used to get into. He never talks about himself or his past. I know you've got your Ma and all, Ez, but the rest of us ain't got our Ma's anymore so it's kind of like we can share in yours and Chris', only your Ma ain't really the kind of Ma that wants to be shared with folk, so I kind of hope that Chris' is…"

Bringing his hand down sharply on the table, Nathan said firmly, "JD! For the love of all that's holy, take a breath, boy!"

When JD obeyed, Vin leapt into the silence and said in his quiet, no-nonsense way, "JD, shut up 'fore ya dig a hole deep enough ta bury yaself. Chris don't like his past to be bandied about fer other's entertainment, so we got ta respect that. Iffun his Ma wants to tell us things, then we'll listen, but ya ain't ta go inna… intag…"

"Interrogating," offered Ezra, before taking a small sip of his water.

"Interrogating, Mrs Larabee," continued Vin, as though he'd never been lost for a word, "She's here to see her boy, so she'll probably be more interested in hearing 'bout what he's been up ter in town here. I know ya miss yer Ma, 'cos I miss mine too, but Mrs Larabee is Chris' Ma, not ours. Miz Nettie treats us like we's hers, so that oughtta be more than enough fer us."

Shamed by Vin's words, made all the more potent by the fact that it was so rare for Vin to take anyone to task, JD nodded solemnly to signal his agreement.

"And I reckon ya owe Ez an apology for slightin' his Ma. Maude mayn't be everyone's idea of a Ma, but she's his and ya oughtn't to go bad-mouthin' her. 'Specially not in front of him," scolded Vin, worried that Ezra had taken offense to the boy's rambling.

"Sorry, Ez. Didn't mean any offense," murmured JD, his head hanging.

Sighing, Ezra leaned over the table to hook JD's chin up so he could see the boy's eyes and said, "It's alright, JD. I know that you're excited, but you're not a child anymore. You need to learn to censure your thoughts before allowing them to be voiced. We know that you don't mean any offense, but one of these days, you're going to say something that can't be fixed with an apology."

Nodding after his chin was released, JD took another huge breath and forced himself to sit up straight and stop fidgeting. He was always telling the others to treat him like a man, rather than a child, but he realised now that he was encouraging them by behaving like a child. Time to start acting like the man he wanted to be treated as by others.

A few minutes of quiet passed, broken only by the waitress coming over to take orders for drinks.

Josiah was enjoying his tour guide duties, finding Margaret Larabee to be a well-educated, strong-willed and interesting woman. Gloria Potter and Mary Travis had both taken a special interest in the new woman, both issuing invitations for meals at their homes. Margaret had shown special interest in the new town library and school, remarking that she was pleased to see such focus on education. Seeing the oatmeal cookies on display at the bakery had caused her to reminisce out loud about how much her son had enjoyed her cookies when he was a boy. Hearing that Chris had told Miss Adelia that her cookies were second only to his Ma's made the woman's sore heart heal a little.

Coming into the restaurant, Margaret found herself pinned by four pairs of eyes. It was somewhat like the feeling she had when she entered a room full of her grandchildren bearing a plate of freshly baked cookies. Allowing Josiah to place his hand on her waist, she let him guide her to the table where all the men had stood on her arrival and Ezra was now holding out a chair for her.

Once everyone was seated, the waitress came over and took their orders for lunch and scurried away again.

Breaking the somewhat uncomfortable silence, Margaret turned to Ezra and asked, "So, Mr Standish, the new school house is charming. Do you have any children of your own?"

Silence fell as all of the others looked towards Ezra uncomfortably, whilst the man himself sucked in a quick breath before posting on a bland look.

"I did … I was…" stammered Ezra, before he managed, "I had two beautiful chillun, but they were taken away from me, along with my beautiful wife."

Keeping her eyes steadily on the struggling man, Margaret laid her hand on the green-sleeved arm and said solemnly, "I am sorry for your terrible loss, Mr Standish."

Patting her hand gently, Ezra smiled and said, "Thank you, Mrs Larabee, and please call me Ezra."

"Then you must call me Margaret, Ezra," agreed Margaret. "All of you may call me Margaret."

Just then the waitress arrived with the first of the food and before long they were all eating and making small talk.

Afterwards as they talked over coffee, Margaret said leadingly, "Ezra, your friend Mr Merriweather asked us to maintain vigilance for a certain woman from my son's past. He didn't want to give us all the details…"

"Ah, yes. Ms Ella Gaines was the woman in question. We found that she was behind the deaths of Chris' wife and son, so I was concerned that she may have taken it into her deranged mind to go after any other family members. But you needn't fear her anymore, as we've got factual evidence that the woman is dead. I did send a telegram through to you at your daughter's to let all y'all know, but you must have already begun your journey at that stage."

"That is good to know, Ezra. I had no fear for myself, but I was worried for my children and grandchildren, despite having two sons-in-law who are more than capable with a gun. I confess that getting news of my son, even indirectly, came as something of a shock. You see, Christopher left our family so many years ago, but he used to send letters home occasionally at the beginning. He and his father, James, were two very different people and fought often and - towards the end - violently. My husband was a harsh man, expecting his son to be obedient as both boy and man grown, punishing him with sharp words and a heavy hand when he fell short of expectations. I'm afraid that Christopher took after my side of the family with his volatile nature and it wasn't long before he'd decided that he wouldn't take his father's rules or discipline anymore. Bucklin's mother had been dead for a couple of years and he had been working at one of the ranches outside of town, whilst wooing any girl foolish enough to believe his charming lies and dodging the irate fathers, brothers and cuckolded lovers attached to said girls," reminisced Margaret, turning her tea cup absently in its saucer. She paused to look around at the assorted snorts and chuckles of the men around the table.

"Not much changed with Buck, Miz Margaret. Although he has recently decided to try for a life of monogamy and is seriously courting our local bar manageress, in the hopes of settling down and having a family," explained Ezra.

Raising a sceptical eyebrow, Margaret replied, "Then wonders never cease, Ezra, as I never thought I'd live to see the day when that wild, young rogue settled down. The things that he and Christopher used to get up to in their youth are still talked about in our small town. Then the war started and the fights that Christopher and his father would have over the rights of negroes were given new purpose. Our town of Crandall wasn't very far from Corydon, so you can imagine the impact that the Battle of Corydon had on my family. It wasn't long before both Christopher and Bucklin had run off to join the Union Army, determined to fight the good fight and win the war. I think the true catalyst was my father passing on. Christopher was very close to his grandfather and they shared many of the same views, so my boy lost his confidante and greatest advocate when Dad died."

A respectful moment passed as each person reflected on the loss of the important influences in their own lives.

"I received sporadic correspondence from Christopher over the years; a letter here and a telegram there, sometimes a photograph. He sent a photograph of himself and Bucklin in their uniforms after he'd made Captain and Bucklin was Sargent. Each letter was hoarded and poured over by myself, Beth and Mabel. James worked himself up into a righteous rage after his only son ran away and it wasn't long after that he passed from a stroke. By this time, my oldest girl, Elizabeth or Beth, had already married well and moved to her own homestead with George and started their own family. Mabel and I stayed on the farm for a number of years, running things in the hope that Christopher would return to take over. But then the war ended and Christopher showed no intention of returning home. Mabel was being courted by a young man called Robert and it seemed things would turn serious there. Eventually, I received a letter to tell me that Chris had met a girl and married. They intended to start a horse ranch, with Bucklin as a partner, and settle in Colorado. I started receiving letters from my new daughter-in-law, Sarah, which delighted me. Through her, I heard all about their new life and then the birth of Adam. I wasn't in a position to travel at that time as my own daughters were both married and often needed me to help with their children or the births of my grandchildren. Mabel and her new husband had taken over the homestead and I had moved in with Beth, who was a little poorly after the birth of her twins and in need of my help. The fact that I never met Sarah and Adam will torment me until the day I die."

"That's understandable, Miz Margaret, but girls need their Ma's more'n sons do," soothed Nathan.

"Yes, well, I'm not so sure of that, Nathan. But the past is the past and as such we cannot change it," demurred Margaret, sighing heavily. "The next letter is one that I will never forget reading as long as I live. It was from Bucklin. It was terribly difficult to understand as the handwriting was shaky, the spelling atrocious and the paper watermarked. But once I'd managed to decipher it, the condition made more sense. It told me of the tragic deaths of my lovely Sarah and my beautiful grandson, Adam, in a house fire. I wanted to go to my boy then, but when I sent a telegram inquiring about directions, the telegraph operator informed me that Christopher had moved on and his whereabouts was unknown. So I stayed in Indiana with my girls and their expanding families and prayed for my poor lost boy. Rumours had came with the cattle drives of a gunslinger called Chris Larabee before his marriage, but I'd relegated them to untruths when I got the letters from Sarah. She was too sensible a woman to be married to someone disreputable. After the tragedy, the rumours started again of a man dressed all in black, with a gun slung low on his hip, who had neither soul nor conscience. A drunkard with a terrible temper, who would kill a man for spilling his drink. I didn't want to believe it was the child I'd raised, but then my son-in-law brought home a novel by somebody called Jock Steele. There was a picture on the front of the seven men and the leader, Chris Larabee, could be none other than my son. I was forced to admit that it was my Christopher."

"Jock Steele and the truth have an estranged relationship, at best, Miz Margaret. I wouldn't believe everything you read," said Josiah, trying to smooth over any misunderstandings. "Many of the things you've heard will have been blown out of proportion as each person made it more sensation for entertainment purposes."

"I'm aware of that, Josiah," replied Margaret, a smile stretching her lips. "But my grandchildren found the book thrilling and all have their favourites amongst you."

"How many grandchildren do you have now?"

A broad grin broke out as Margaret answered, "I have eight wonderful grandchildren, Ezra. Beth and George have four, three boys and a girl. Jamie is nearing twenty years of age and is a carbon copy of his dear father. Georgina, or Georgie, is seventeen and has declared that she will never marry but rather will become the first woman lawyer. The twins, Thomas and Charles, are sixteen and are as lively a duo as you can imagine; always getting into mischief. Then my younger girl, Mabel, has also got four children with her husband, Robert. Mabel has three girls and one small boy. Margaret, or Meg as she is known, is fifteen years of age and smart as a whip. Then there's twelve year old Susan, who follows her cousins, Tommy and Charlie, around in all their shenanigans with her bag of bandages to patch them up. Rachel is a precocious nine year old tomboy and wants to be a cowboy or a Texas Ranger when she grows up. Little Bobby is just four years old and is the most spoiled little boy you will ever meet, having three older sisters to dote on his every want."

"That is truly a wonderful family group, Miz Margaret. You must be very proud," responded Ezra, seeing that the others were all rather awestruck at the thought of so many family members.

"I am very proud, Ezra. I'm also exhausted, most of the time," chuckled the matriarch, remembering days of constant questions, sibling fights, never-ending cooking, piles of washing, cleaning up the remains of imaginary battles, childish troubles and injuries. The quiet at the end of day, when all the youngsters were in bed was truly a magical time. "But as trying as they can be, I wouldn't swap my life for anything."

Nodding his head knowingly, Ezra lost himself in days gone.

Seeing his brother's melancholy return, Vin asked cheekily, "So who favours me, Miz Margaret?"

Laughing, Margaret answered quickly, "That would be Charlie, who's vowed to run away and become an Indian agent and learn all about tracking, just as soon as he can talk his brother into going with him. Tom, however, wants to be a gambler like Ezra and work on the river boats."

Ezra looked slightly chagrined at the mild disapproval in Margaret's voice, but didn't get a chance to defend himself as the older woman went on.

"As I said before Georgie wants to be a lawyer and admires Ezra for his ability to talk himself out of any situation, a skill she feels would be useful in her chosen profession. She also likes Josiah, as he reminds her of her paternal grandfather, who was a minister. Jamie is quieter about his likes and dislikes, but professes an admiration for his Uncle Chris' protective instincts and the ability of Chris, Vin and Ezra with their firearms. Meg took quite a liking to Buck's image and we're all in despair over her girlish infatuation with him. Susan is our family's little nurse, so she admires Nathan and his healing. Little Bobby loves JD and wants to be a Sheriff when he grows up. He's got a stick horse that he rides around all the time, whilst wearing his newspaper 'bowler' hat and a Sheriff's badge that his father made for him from an old piece of tin," explained Margaret, shaking her head fondly as she pictured the rambunctious child running around the yard, shooting the bad guys – played by the family dogs – with his finger.

All the men preened slightly at having the adoration of children they'd never even met.

Ezra took out his watch to check the time and regretfully asked to be excused to resume his shift at the jail. This prompted the breaking up of the party, with Josiah escorting Margaret over to the Clarion offices to visit with Mary at the newspaper woman's earlier request; Nathan returning to clinic for further studies with Archie; JD heading out on afternoon patrol; and Vin heading over to the livery to check on Peso, who he suspected of having a stone bruise on one of his hooves.

Each man scanned the street for trouble, as well as the distance for any sign of their missing brothers' possible early return. Ezra sat in the porch of the jail, staring at the telegraph office, shuffling his cards as he considered whether to send a message to Chris about his mother. Finally, he decided he should send one just in case Buck convinced the dark clad man to stay over an extra night. It was unlikely, given Buck's new interest in pursuing Inez, but one never knew. Standing and stowing his card, the gambler made his way to the other side of the street.

Exiting the telegraph office, Ezra made his way back to the jail hoping that his message wouldn't cause their brethren to take foolish chances on getting home. Only time would tell.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Buck glanced over at his old friend in concern as they ambled along towards Four Corners. They'd concluded their business for the judge in Skunkwater quicker than anticipated and were back on the trail, despite the invitation to dine with the Sheriff and his wife. Chris had begged off saying that they were needed back home, citing the latest bank robbery and being a man down as a reason for getting back as soon as possible. At first, Buck had thought that Chris was worried about Ezra, despite being reassured by Archie, Nathan and the gambler himself that he was on the mend. But now, he was starting to think that Chris had other reasons.

Pulling Lady up, Buck called, "Hey there, old dog, how 'bout we take a breather over here and have some coffee?"

Pony danced around in a half circle, sensing his rider's impatience at the enforced stop. Frowning at his friend, Chris growled, "Ain't more'n an hour or so to Four Corners, Buck. Can't ya wait that long?"

"We ain't due back until tomorrow, so a half hour here warming up and having a hot drink ain't going to kill anyone, Chris," argued Buck, sick of the cold and the silent treatment. Leaning forward on his saddle horn, Buck studied the cranky man in front of him for a while before leaning back in astonishment and stating, "You're sick!"

"Ain't sick, Buck. I just don't want to be drinking your damn trail swill, when I could be drinking Inez's fine brew and eating a plate of hot steak and potatoes," snarled Chris, desperately trying to quell the urge to cough that was the result of all this unwanted conversation. Unable to explain his urge to get home, he was characteristically covering his concern with anger. "Besides, it will be dark in an hour or so and there ain't gonna be much of a moon, so I don't want to be riding through the dark and risking Pony's legs. And I sure as hell don't want to have to cuddle up to you and get deafened by your damn snoring, 'cos we have to stop out here and spend the night on the freezing ground. Now quit your lollygagging and let's go."

Urging Lady forward so that he was level with Chris, their horses facing different directions, Buck reached out to check his friend's temperature. The dark clad man's voice sounded slightly scratchy, now Buck was paying attention, and the usually pale face of his friend was delicately flushed.

Slapping the hand away, Chris wheeled his horse around and took off back to Four Corners, letting Buck decide for himself if he was coming or staying.

Shaking his head, Buck urged Lady to follow, muttering worriedly, "Dang fool. Don't know how to look after hisself. Ain't seen him sick since the war. Old dog just don't get sick. Fevered from being shot, yes. Hungover from too much red-eye, yes. Poisoned by bad booze, yes. But not sick sick."

Back at Four Corners, Ezra was just leaving the clinic after a visit with his mother when he looked up to see Vin crawling out of his wagon with an armload of his stuff. Curious, the gambler quickly checked the street for danger and then hurried over to intercept his younger brother.

"What have you got there, Vin?"

Looking up at the inquisitive man, Vin grinned and said, "Figured since I's spending more time in yer room than in ma wagon, I's maybe should take ma stuff over there. Ya gave me that big empty trunk ta keep ma good suits and spare undies in, so I figured I'd put tha rest o' ma clothes in there too. Fill 'er up a bit, 'cos ma suits jist look lonely in there by their ownsome."

"An excellent idea, Vin. Do you have anything else that needs fetching? I'm offering a second set of hands."

Dumping the armload he had on Ezra, who hastily repositioned his arms to accommodate the bundle, Vin grinned and turned to clamber back into the wagon to fetch some more of his things. Truthfully, he had just about decided to give up his wagon now he was a free man and didn't have the need to pick up his whole life and leave at a moment's notice. Now he had a family and friends, so he figured it was time to settle in more permanently. When Spring came and he no longer had the ready excuse of sharing a bed for warmth, he was thinking on getting his own room at the boarding house. He couldn't kick Ted out of his old room, but there would be another one somewhere.

Waiting patiently for Vin, Ezra hummed a little as he gazed around the growing town. He'd been thinking on using some of his money to build a house for himself. Not outside town, but maybe on the outskirts. The room at the saloon had suited him for a while, but he often found himself wishing for the little den that he'd had in his marital home. Somewhere to sit and read quietly of an evening, whilst sipping a fine whiskey, was just what he needed in his life. Having refurbished the living quarters for his friends, he was now thinking of a place of his own. Now that the bounty was lifted on Vin's curly head, the younger man could sleep in his own room without fear of being ambushed. Perhaps he could build a place with enough room for a few of his friends.

Sniffing delicately, he adjusted his burdens as he felt a pair of trousers make a bid for freedom, then considered his family. Josiah had decided to set his cap for the lovely Mrs Potter, so presumably he would be moving into her quarters at the back of the store eventually. Until then, the older man seemed to like his solitary quarters in the church, particularly now that the gambler had installed a wood burning stove. Nathan would stay in his newly refurbished quarters, until such time as he was to move into the housing over the new clinic. Although, if he wed the lovely Rain and they were to have children, they may need a house with more room. JD would need family quarters sooner rather than later, given the direction his relationship with Miss Casey was going. Buck had announced his intention to woo the beautiful and fiery Inez, so they would take over the rooms in the Saloon to start with at least. Once children started arriving, he imagined they'd need a house as well. Unable to picture the vivacious Inez as a rancher's wife, he thought they'd need a house near town so that Inez could continue as a manager of the bar, if not serving to the customers. Which left Vin and Chris as the only other bachelors of the group, beside himself.

Startling when he heard Vin cursing behind him, he wrenched himself from his musing to see that Vin had managed to drop two of his books on the ground and was groaning as he bent to retrieve them.

"Is your back sore today?"

Straightening from where he'd been picking up his precious books, Vin rubbed his lower back with a grimace and nodded. Then he gathered the sack of belongings and placed the books inside, before doing up the fastenings on his wagon cover. Turning to Ez, he made a grand gesture for the older man to precede him towards the Saloon.

Making sure to keep his pace slow enough that it didn't aggravate Vin's back, but quick enough not to aggravate the man himself, Ez went back to dreaming of his new house.

It would certainly need a roomy kitchen, since Ezra enjoyed cooking when he had the opportunity and was not a bad hand at it. A dining table big enough for his extended family, for those occasions when he could gather them all together such as Thanksgiving and Christmas, would be essential. An airy sitting room alongside his den and an inside bathing room must be planned. Upstairs he'd need a bedroom for himself, one for his mother when she blew through town, one for Vin and another for Chris, when the older man was staying in town. By offering the room to his older brother, that would free up a room at the boarding house, which would be welcomed by Miss Virginia as she was quite often heard lamenting the fact that she had to turn away custom. He wouldn't want to leave Inez, Molly, Fanny and Rafael unprotected at the Saloon, but he was sure that he could convince Buck to move into his old room. Hopefully that didn't create problems with Inez and Molly. It was unfortunate that Miss Virginia was reluctant to rent to the girls, preferring single men and the occasional small family as customers. Still, with her strict rule regarding no 'company' in the rooms, it would be hard on Molly in particular as she was fond of a little 'company'.

"EZ!"

Wrenched from his daydreaming by Vin's shout in his ear and the tracker's bony elbow in his side, Ezra snapped, "What!"

Following his younger brother's exasperated chin gesture, he saw Inez behind the bar waving a piece of paper at him, having obviously been trying to attract his attention for a while.

"Senor Ezra, I have a telegram here for you. Albert couldn't find you, so he left it with me," announced the pretty bar manager, once she'd finally had the distracted gambler's full attention.

Carefully placing his bundle of clothes on the bar, Ezra reached for his missive and scanned it quickly. Huffing when he saw that the reply to his telegram had been sent by the Sheriff of Skunkwater, rather than Chris who had been the original addressee, Ezra frowned when he read that his brothers had already left to return home. Wondering why they'd left so early, Ezra gathered up the bundle again and absently thanked Inez for her efforts.

Once upstairs, Vin found himself once again having to nudge Ezra back into reality. Wondering what was worrying his brother so much, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Huh?" Blurted the gambler, before he realised they'd stopped at his door and that the younger man was waiting for him to unlock it. "Oh, of course, the key."

Waiting until they were inside and the door was once again locked, Vin upended his sack of belongings onto the bed and started placing them in his trunk, asking, "Ez, what's wrong wit' ya today? Ya mind's been all over tha place like a mad dog's shit, all mornin'."

Twitching at the colourful phraseology in Vin's question, Ezra paused in his refolding of Vin's clothing to quirk an eyebrow at the tracker and repeat slowly, "A mad dog's shit? Really, Vin!"

Chuckling unrepentantly, Vin drawled unconvincingly, "Sorry, Ez."

"No, you're not, you reprobate. But since I'm quite fond of you, I suppose I'll just have to move past your crude expression and answer your question," responded the Southerner, amused to see Vin's face tint red with shy pleasure. "I was originally distracted by the thought of housing within our fair community, in particular with the thought of building a house for you, me and Chris to reside in on the outskirts of town. Or perhaps a side street that we created, since the need for expansion within the town is worth considering. Then I was wondering what had prompted Chris and Buck to leave Skunkwater earlier than anticipated."

Taking the telegram as it was waved at him by Ezra, Vin slowly and painstakingly read it. Frowning, he wondered, "Why's they coming back so soon? Figured they'd stay tha night 'n come back in tha morning after breakfast, even iffun they finished up early. Why ya reckon they's coming back so soon, Ez?"

Handing the Texan his neatly folded clothes to place in the chest, Ezra took back his telegram and shook his head. Suddenly, he looked around the room and blurted, "Where's Baker?"

Grunting in pain as he straightened, after replacing the tray of the steamer trunk and reverently lowering the lid with a quick rub of the gleaming wood, Vin hobbled to the bed and lowered himself onto it before saying, "Over at tha Potter's. Young Josh has been poorly wit' a head cold 'n was feeling miserable 'n bored, so I left Baker wit' him as amusement. I's going back soon ta collect tha little critter, 'fore Gloria gets sick o' him."

Helping Vin out of his coats and hanging them on their designated hooks, Ezra frowned at the hiss of pain the younger man gave as he tried to lower his suspenders from his shoulders. Within minutes, Ezra had Vin lying comfortably on his stomach, hugging his pillow with his socked feet covered by the extra quilt they kept folded at the foot of the bed. Starting to rub the liniment into the spasming back muscles, he smiled gently at the sounds of relief that Vin couldn't help giving. The bitter cold weather was not kind to his young brother.

Relaxing happily with the soothing feel of Ezra's hands on his back, Vin hummed low in his chest. Thinking back on their conversation, he asked, "Ya thinkin' on buildin' us a house, Ez? On tha outskirts a town?"

"Yes. I find myself yearning for a place of my own lately, what with furnishing the living quarters for Miss Adelia, Archie and our new schoolmarm. When I was married to my dear Emmaline, I had quite a lovely house with a fine kitchen and a cosy den. I'd quite like something like that here. Of course, I'd be lonely living there on my own, so I thought that you and Chris might like to stay with me when you're both in town. When the warmer weather comes, you won't want to be sharing a bed with me any longer. Since you've given up your room at the boarding house to Ted, and rooms are such a precious commodity, I thought you'd like your own room in my new house," rambled Ezra, concentrating on easing a particularly stubborn knot from one of Vin's muscles.

Gritting his teeth in pain, knowing that it would pass and feel so much better after, Vin nodded. Panting a little as the pain ebbed and Ezra's hand smoothed over the still aching spot, Vin urged, "What kinda things ya gonna have in tha house?"

"Well, we'll need a kitchen for me to prepare meals, a bathing room, a reception room or parlour, a nice cosy den for reading and playing poker and chess in the downstairs. Then upstairs, bedrooms for you, me and Chris, with a spare room for visitors. I thought if we built it over on the side of town that looks out towards the desert, I would have several large windows in your room to make it light and airy, giving spacious views so it would seem less enclosed for you. Chris would have the room next to yours but facing town, as we know how much he likes to be able to glare out at everyone who interrupts his sleep."

Chuckling sleepily, Vin drawled, "Cowboy likes ta make sure folk know who's boss."

"Indeed," agreed Ezra, continuing to rub his hand over Vin's back softly, despite having finished any therapeutic massage. "I would have the other room at the front of the house, since I too like to keep an eye on things, then the other room to the back on the other side of the hall to you would be kept for visitors. My mother, certainly, and perhaps your father's friend and your aunt and uncle might visit us sometime."

"Sure sounds nice, Ez. Be ma…" pausing to yawn, Vin continued, "Be ma first real home since ma Mama."

"It will be a new start for all three of us, Vin," agreed Ezra, his mind whirling with plans for furniture, building materials and when the ground would be thawed enough to sink footings and dig a basement. They'd need a basement to store foodstuffs and the like away from the extreme heat.

Slipping into sleep, Vin dreamed of a use with smoke curling from the chimney, advertising a warm and welcoming place for him to rest, never noticing Ezra pull his shirts back down, rise and cover him with the spare quilt.

After washing the residual liniment off his hands and letting himself out of the room stealthily, Ezra relocked the door and made his way to the Potter's to retrieve Baker for Vin. Knowing that the back pain wore the young Texan down, Ezra reckoned on this nap lasting until supper at least. Greeting Gloria with a wave, since she was busy with a customer, Ezra ducked into the back of the shop and went up to young Josh's room. Stealthily creeping in so as not to wake the sleeping boy, Ezra quickly retrieved the snoozing puppy before he woke and let out a yip of excitement. Tucking the wriggling pup under his arm with a soft shush, Ezra left the living quarters as silently as he'd entered after putting a book on the bed for young Josh to enjoy during his convalescence.

Nodding to Gloria and holding up the pup to let her know without words that she didn't have to worry about Baker anymore, the gambler left the store and turned to go back to the Saloon. Seeing two familiar forms enter the outskirts of town, one on a black horse and one on a grey, Ezra altered his course to intercept them. Putting the puppy down, he issued a stern command to heel, and walked briskly towards his returning brothers with the gangly pup trotting eagerly beside him.

In the livery, Baker was greeted by the deep, forbidding bark of the owner's dog, Brutus. Looking up at Ezra with a somewhat pleading look on his furry face, Baker yipped happily when Ezra gave the release signal and ran off to join Brutus at the back of the livery for a game of bow and chase. After Brutus flipped Baker over onto his back and snuffled him all over of course, this being the standard greeting between the two dogs at the moment. Ezra wondered what would happen once Baker grew into his enormous paws and was suddenly bigger than Brutus. Shrugging, he went to greet the weary travellers.

Chris vaguely noted that Ezra was standing beside his horse and talking to him, but was feeling too ill to pay attention to what he was saying. Gathering his strength, he dismounted and would have fallen onto his butt if two strong arms hadn't suddenly gathered him against a sturdy chest. Barking out a cough, the Hoosier felt himself being dragged backwards and seated on a bale of hay. His hat was removed and a hand ran through his sweaty hair, loosening it from his scalp. Sighing gustily, which culminated in another bout of barking, he leaned his heavy head on the first available surface and closed his eyes.

"Not sick, my ass," mumbled Buck from the entrance of the stall, glaring at the sprawled form of his friend. Turning to the startled gambler, who was sat on the bale beside Chris holding the taller man against his chest with an alarmed look on his face. "Good to see ya up and around, Pard."

"I'm glad to be here, Bucklin. Now what on earth is wrong with Chris? He's burning up," demanded Ezra, his free hand running up and around Chris' chest looking for any unseen wounds.

"Aw, he's just got hisself a cold. Been barking like a dog for the last twenty minutes and been squinting against the sun even more'n usual, so 'spect he's got hisself a humdinger of a headache. Kept rubbing his right ear too, so probably that's paining him a bit. No sneezing though his voice was a bit raspier than usual before," listed Buck, trying hard to maintain his nonchalance in the face of his almost overwhelming worry.

Giving up on his search for wounds, Ezra just cinched his ailing brother tighter in an effort to comfort the man. The whistling, wheezing, crackling noise coming from the man's mouth indicated compromised lung function, so Ezra was reluctant to take him to the clinic for fear of Archie's consumption taking hold in Chris' weakened lungs.

"'Spose we should take 'im over to the clinic, huh Ez?"

"No, Buck, I don't think so. It sounds like Chris has a lung fever, or influenza, both of which are highly contagious. Was anyone else sick like this in Skunkwater?"

Alarmed now, Buck straightened and thought hard before shaking his head. Then he clicked his fingers as a memory resurfaced and he declared, "No-one sick like this, but one of the fellas we had to meet complained 'bout his head painin' him somethin' awful and he was coughin' a bit but nowhere near as bad as Chris. 'N he was the one to shake Chris' hand but not mine. Reckon that's why Chris is sick 'n I ain't?"

"It could be, or it could be that you will be sick later. I don't want this to spread throughout the township, but Mother is still convalescing in the clinic and with Chris' lungs being so weak at the moment, he would be in danger of catching Archie's illness. We can't take him to the boarding house, and risk it spreading to the other boarders. Same goes for the hotel and its patrons," muttered Ezra, wiping down his brother's face with a handkerchief.

"Can make it to my cabin," mumbled the sick man, trying valiantly to gather the strength to remove himself from the comfort of Ezra's arms. Truthfully, he didn't want to go anywhere other than the nearest warm bed. Preferably with the southerner in attendance, as he'd prefer Ezra's whiskey, lemon and honey toddies to Nathan's horse piss as a remedy.

"No, we're not leaving you out at that draughty shack," scolded Ezra lightly. Making his decision, he told Buck, "Go and fetch Nathan here, Buck, and tell Archie to get Maude ready to go back to her room at the hotel. If you see Josiah, ask him to help Archie. And Buck...!"

Pausing at the door of the livery, Buck turned back inquisitively.

"Don't touch anything or anyone. Don't talk to anyone except Nathan and then come back here. You'll have to go into quarantine until we're sure that you haven't caught this too."

"Aw hell," cursed Buck, nodding curtly and running out the door.

TBC.


	4. Chapter 4

Buck sat in the chair beside his friend's bed in the new clinic and tried to breathe as shallowly as possible to avoid the tickle that was building in his chest. Looking around the room, he saw Ezra industriously stripping and remaking the bed that Maude had been in and Nathan stirring up some godawful smelling gunk in a small bowl that he'd said would be applied to Chris' chest as a poultice to help the sick man breathe better. Surreptitiously wiping the sweat from his hot forehead, Buck looked back at the blond lying so still beside him.

As soon as Nathan had arrived at the livery, he'd slid to his knees beside Chris and peppered Ezra with questions. All Ez had said was, "Listen."

Sure enough, when they'd all shut up, all they could hear was the bubbling, popping noise coming from Chris' chest as the man struggled to draw a deep enough breath. His lips had a blue tint and so did his nails when Nathan picked up one of his hands to check.

Exchanging a long, speaking look with the gambler, Nathan had nodded grimly, causing Ezra to lower his chin to his chest and hold his brother tighter. Neither action eased the anxiety that was clutching at Buck's innards.

Things happened fast after that with Nathan hollering at JD to stay the hell away when the boy appeared at the livery door wanting to know what was going on. Ezra asked if Josiah had gone to the clinic and JD confirmed that Maude had been carried to the hotel by the ex-preacher with Archie in attendance. Nathan had gently taken Chris' upper body from Ez, much to the blond's distress as he'd been enjoying the warmth of Ezra's hold, whilst Ez took his legs and they'd carried Chris out the back of the livery and around to the back door of the clinic. Before leaving the gambler had asked Buck to strip the tack from both Pony and Grey, leaving it in a spare stall with instructions that no-one touch it, before coming straight to the clinic. Tiny was instructed to wash his hands thoroughly in hot water with lots of soap after he'd curried the animals. The burly livery owner nodded grimly and promised to keep the nature of Chris' illness to himself. JD was told to send a telegram to Skunkwater asking after any known outbreaks of sickness there, before going back to his duties and not to come anywhere near the clinic or breath a word of what had happened to anyone outside the other peacekeepers.

Settling Chris into a bed hadn't taken Nathan and Ezra long as they worked in a sort of dance around each other; neither needing words to know what to do. Both were worried about the sickness spreading, but not particularly worried about Chris since he was young, strong and normally very healthy. Having caught the illness early on, it should be easily beaten back. But if it were to spread… There were a lot of townsfolk who'd be at risk of dying from the disease.

A knock at the back door had Ezra there in an instant, asking for the identity of the caller.

"Ezra, my boy, it's Archie. Let me in," called the doctor.

"Archie, we can't let you in. Not only are you not in a position to fight off pneumonia, but Chris is more vulnerable to catching consumption whilst his lungs are weak. You know that. Please, if you could continue to look after Mother and you can still access the consultation room at the front to see anyone who requires medical attention. At the moment, the only three people who have come into physical contact with Chris are in this room and I'd like to keep it that way for at least a week," called Ezra through the still closed door.

Resting his forehead against the door in frustration, Archie silently cursed the consumption for making it impossible for him to do his job. Knowing that Ezra was right, he still wasn't happy at having to turn his back on a person who could benefit from his help. Finally, he thumped his first on the door and shouted, "Right you are, son. If you need any supplies, let me know and I'll arrange to have them left by the door here."

Buck listened listlessly as Ezra asked for foodstuffs, books and a bottle or two of good whiskey. An overwhelming feeling of lassitude had engulfed him, causing his head to bobble as he tried to keep it up. Sweat was rolling down his face, but his hands felt too heavy to lift. The itch inside his chest that was making it more and more difficult to resist coughing became even more aggravating.

Not more than ten minutes after Archie had left, JD pounded on the door calling for Ezra.

"What is it, JD? I told you to stay away," called Ezra, a note of irritation in his voice.

"Albert got an answer from Skunkwater. They got themselves an outbreak of sickness. Already killed six folk, including a baby from one family and a little girl in another. Sheriff wants to know if we know what the sickness is and if we can send Nathan over there to help out," shouted the kid, anxiously waiting to hear what to do. He may be the one wearing the badge, but his older brothers were the ones with the wisdom and experience.

"Keep your voice down, JD, we don't want to start a panic. Go ask Archie to help you send a reply about what they can do to help themselves. They can't have Nathan, he's needed here. Then you need to contact all the towns around us to let them know. Send a telegram to the Sheriff of each town asking them to notify any doctors or healers in town. Make sure that you tell them not to panic folk, but to keep to themselves for a week or two," replied Ezra, in what he hoped was a calm and steady voice.

Chastened by the rebuke, JD lowered his voice and asked timidly, "How's Chris? Is Buck alright? Why ain't he talking to me?"

A sudden bark from behind Ezra had the gambler spinning around to see Buck doubled over in the chair, coughing harshly as he wrapped his arms around his chest. As worried as he was, the barking sound of Buck's cough sparked a memory and Ezra suddenly thought of Baker, left on his own in the livery. Dammit.

"JD, both Chris and Buck are quite ill, I won't lie to you. But they're strong, healthy men normally, so they're not at risk of dying. Especially with Nathan here to pour his horse piss down their throat," called the Southerner, relieved when his ploy worked and he heard JD chuckling on the other side of the door. "But I need you to do me a favour. I left Baker in the livery. Can you go and get him before he wanders off into mischief and look after him until you see Vin?"

"Sure, Ez. Where is Vin?"

"He was having some back pain earlier, so I rubbed some liniment on it and he fell asleep. I would assume that he'll appear around suppertime, knowing his appetite," replied Ezra, worriedly watching Nathan as he struggled to get Buck to strip down and get into the bed next to Chris. "JD, I have to go and help Nathan. You just do what I've asked and I'm sure everything will be fine in a short while."

"I'll do it, Ez. Hey, Ez. What about Mary and Chris' Ma?"

Nathan and Ezra looked at each other with wide eyes, both having forgotten in the heat of the moment that Chris's mother was in town.

"Tell Josiah what's happened and have him tell Margaret. But make it quite clear that no-one will be admitted to the clinic until we're sure that the illness is no longer contagious," called Ezra.

Buck really didn't want to be put to bed. He could sit beside his friend and keep vigil just fine, thank you very much. Chris needed him and he'd be damned if a little cold was going to stop him from doing his best for a friend. Then Ezra came and stood in front of him, holding his hot face with those wonderfully cool, soft hands and reminded him that he wasn't the only one interested in looking after Chris now. Acknowledging, somewhat sheepishly, that he wasn't Chris' only friend anymore and that he really did feel pretty awful, Buck allowed the gambler to undress him to his red long johns and ease him into a bed.

As soon as he lay down, Buck started coughing uncontrollable and found himself scooped upright and held against Ezra's chest. Once the fit passed, he rested his aching head on the Southerner's shoulder wearily and concentrated on the soothing feeling of Ezra's hand as it rubbed circles on his back. Every part of him was aching like he'd been tossed off a horse and trampled by a herd of beef. The pain in his head was equalled only by the ache in his chest and his nose was stuffed up something fierce. All in all, Buck had never felt quite so sick in his entire life. He was beginning to wish he'd been shot instead, as at least only the part of him with the bullet wound would hurt then.

"Here Ez, best prop him up some," advised Nathan, pushing a couple more of the plump pillows behind Buck.

"Thank you, Nathan."

Allowing himself to be lowered onto the bed again, Buck was glad of the extra height that allowed him to breathe without succumbing to the hacking cough. No longer having the energy to open his eyes, he started when he felt something nudge his lower lip.

"Open up and drink this, Bucklin, it will help you feel better," urged Ezra, nudging the lower lip of his friend with the mug of sweetened herbs that Nathan had brought over.

Chris managed to crack his eyes open a little and roll his head to the side, trying to see what was going on. Finally, he croaked, "Bu…uck?"

"Now, don't you be worryin' yaself," scolded Nathan, heading for the gunslinger with the poultice mix in hand. Putting it on the bedside table, he started to undo the buttons on the nightshirt they'd just put the other man in after they'd found that his skivvies were sweat soaked. "Buck's got hisself the same sickness you've got, but he's also got hisself a smooth talkin' Southern nurse."

Focussing blearily on the healer, Chris sighed, "Ez?"

"Yeah, Ez," confirmed Nathan as he carefully smeared the nasty smelling glop onto Chris' sweat covered, heaving chest. Ignoring the grimace of distaste from his patient, he kept applying the poultice until the entire area was covered in a thick layer of gritty paste. After placing a thick towel over Chris' chest, he pulled the covers back up to keep the warmth in.

Seeing Nathan approaching Buck's bed with the bowl, Ezra chuckled and observed, "That's going to be hell to get out of Buck's chest hair, you know."

Smirking, Nathan nodded and replied, "We could always shave his chest first, but I don't think he'd appreciate that anymore than if we were to shave that caterpillar on his upper lip."

Coughing, Buck tried to defend his hirsute manliness, but Ezra had placed his hand over his mouth.

"Uh, uh, uh, Bucklin. No talking for a while. It will only make the coughing worse. Just try to get some sleep," cautioned the Southerner, moving to let Nathan get closer. Going to the bowl of hot water and carbolic that was sitting on the stove; Ezra scrubbed his hands quickly and thoroughly before wiping them on a scrap of cloth, which was tossed into the stove fire.

"Ez," croaked Chris pleadingly, after coughing desperately due to the fumes from the poultice on his chest. Feeling miserable and abandoned, he called the first name to come to mind. Funny, he used to call for Buck or his Mom when he was sick in the war, but now he called for the gambler.

"I'm here, Chris," soothed the Southerner, running his fingers through Chris' thick hair. Reaching for the glass of water beside the bed, he helped Chris take a couple of small sips before putting the glass down again and sitting on the edge of the bed. Tucking the blankets in around the tops of his brother's shoulders, Ezra returned to his petting and murmured comfortingly in an effort to lull the older man to sleep.

Vin stirred lazily under the covers, debating whether to leave his warm nest or not. Deciding the matter for him, his stomach rumbling loudly just as he became aware of the pressing need to pee, causing Vin to grumble discontentedly. Stretching out cautiously, he was pleased to note that the liniment and back rub had worked and he felt much looser and almost pain free. Sitting up and throwing the covers back, he rubbed his hands over his face before looking around for Ezra. Sometimes, Ez would sit in the rocking chair reading and waiting for him to wake up. Not today though, it appeared. Maybe the tables had been calling for him.

Hurriedly donning his many layers of clothes to keep out the slight chill that had crept into the room as the fire in the stove died down, Vin quickly splashed some of the water from the jug onto his face to wake himself up properly. Whistling the special low call that he used for Baker, he remembered that the dog was at the Potters after the loyal little animal failed to answer the call. Suddenly realising that that was probably where the gambler had gone, he set off to find them.

Ambling down the stairs, he was confronted with the sight of JD sitting morosely at their usual table with a mug of hot milk in front of him and Baker at his feet. Hearing a family tread, the little dog raised his head with a happy, welcoming yap and skittered across the floorboards to greet his person. JD looked up at the sudden motion and called, "Hey Vin. Feeling better?"

Nodding, Vin tapped his thigh to indicate that Baker should come to heel and stop rolling around on the floor, begging for a belly rub. His back was much improved, but the strain of squatting to pet his dog wasn't something he was up to at the moment. Pulling out a chair and seating himself, he grinned as Baker leapt onto his lap without invitation. Scruffing the rough mane of hair around the dog's neck, Vin scolded, "Yer lucky Ez ain't here, Baker. He'd be tellin' ya off fer ungentlemanly behaviour. Ya gotta wait ta be invited 'fore ya jist jump up on a person's lap."

Looking over at the loud gulp from JD, Vin frowned and asked, "Ya alright there, pard?"

Scanning the Saloon to make sure there was no-one to overhear him, JD launched into a retelling of Buck and Chris' arrival back in town and their subsequent removal to the clinic. Seeing that Vin was about the leave and go over there, he clamped a hand down on the tracker's forearm and whispered urgently, "Ez won't let ya in, Vin. Him, Nathan, Buck and Chris are the only ones allowed in the recovery room of the clinic. Chris and Buck've got influenza, which is real catching. It's going through Skunkwater like a dose of salts and they've lost a whole lot of folk."

Vin paled even further at the news that people were dying from the illness and he shook off JD's restraining grip before standing and running for the door, back pain forgotten in his fear for his brothers.

JD cursed and ran after the panicking Texan.

Ezra and Nathan jumped when there came a pounding on the back door. Hastily each settled a soothing hand on the forehead of the man closest to them, shushing them as they stirred fretfully at the noise. The carers glanced at each other, seeing fear in the other's eyes that someone else had fallen ill. Then Ezra's shoulders slumped and Nathan smiled as they heard a clear Texan twang call, "Ezra, I know ya in there. Open this damn door, right now, ya hear me!"

Rolling his eyes in response to the pleading in the green eyes facing him, Nathan huffed and went over to the door to state in his clear, firm voice, "Quit makin' all that noise now, Vin. You nearly woke up Chris and Buck and sleep's important to their healin'…"

"Let me in, Nate. Ain't talkin' ta ya through tha damned door," growled Vin, his fisted hand still resting on the door as he pushed it fretfully.

"You ain't comin' in here. No-one's comin' in here until this sickness has passed and no-one else has gotten it. Won't take more'n a week, I reckon. I know ya worried 'bout Chris but you'll be use to him out there helping JD and Josiah keep order in the town," lectured Nathan, leaning his shoulder wearily against the door.

"Why ain't Ez talkin' ta me? He ain't sick too is he?"

Unable to bear the fear in Vin's voice anymore, Ezra came to the door and spoke quietly. "Vin, I'm alright. Try not to worry. Chris and Buck are very sick, but they were in good health before catching this and they're young and strong. They'll be able to fight this off with the care that Nathan and I give them."

"But folk're dyin' in Skunkwater, Ez," cried Vin, wishing he could see his brothers for himself.

"From what I understand, those that have succumbed in Skunkwater were children and the elderly, possibly those who were already weakened from a previous illness. Which is why we need to keep this contained in the clinic in this town. Why you need to remain healthy and out there to maintain order should the word get out and people start to panic. You wouldn't want any of the town children to get this, nor people like Miss Nettie. As to the Seminole villagers… it would decimate them, Vin. I've seen camps where disease has swept through and I do not want to see it again."

Unbeknownst to either of them, Vin and Ezra had each rested their forehead in the same spot on opposite sides of the door.

Breath hitching, Vin said so softly that Ezra almost didn't hear him, "I's scared, Ez."

Blinking back tears and wishing he could comfort his brother more, Ezra infused his voice with as much confidence as possible and said, "I know, Vin, but I also know that you'll overcome your fear and do your best for the town. It's not just the illness spreading that is the danger either. We're four down and as such the town is vulnerable to attack from any miscreant who wants to try their luck. Remember too, JD is just as frightened for Buck and Josiah will be fretting over all of us."

Glancing at JD as he stood frozen beside him, Vin saw the kid's eyes were filled with unshed tears and worry for Buck was written large all over his youthful face. Slinging an arm around the boy's shoulders, Vin straightened, cleared his throat and said, "Yer right, Ez. Don't yer worry none 'bout tha town. Me and tha kid will be fine."

Pride filled Ezra's voice as it filtered through the door to the two youngest peacekeepers, "I know you will be. I have every confidence in you all."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Arrrgh, so cranky. I had the entire chapter done and then the computer I was working on died and took all my work with it. I usually save it every so often, but on this occasion I didn't. Sod's Law. Anyway, I had to retype it from scratch and I don't think it's as good as the first version.**

"Josiah, if you have any sense of self preservation at all, you will remove yourself from my path immediately," warned Margaret, glaring at the ex-preacher with an intensity that would put her son's glare to shame.

Nervously clearing his throat, Josiah tried to reason with the protective mother in front of him without getting swatted by the suddenly shown claws. "Margaret, I assure you that Chris and Buck are receiving the finest care. Think about how badly Chris would feel if you were to catch his sickness."

"I survived nursing that boy through measles, mumps, colds and chicken pox, I'm sure I'll survive this too. He needs his mother and I will not fail him. Now move!"

"You're not as young as you were when you were nursing Chris as a child, Margaret. The young and the … not so young are at greater risk of death from influenza," cautioned Josiah, trying to talk some sense into the woman whilst secretly realising from which parent Chris got his iron will.

Narrowing her eyes at having her age thrown in her face by a man not all that much younger than herself, Margaret blew out a breath and charged. She was done with having her way thwarted.

Staggering against the door frame from the force of the shove Margaret had given him, Josiah stared after her for moment, stunned at the sudden show of strength. The door to the next suite opened and a pale, but clearly amused Maude Standish appeared, wearing an uncharacteristically simple dress and with her hair in a long plait. Despite the faint lines of pain, the woman looked years younger than she was, in her girlishly plain attire and bare feet.

"I would have thought that you would've learned by now, Josiah. Never get between a mother grizzly and her wounded cub," advised Maude, chuckling devilishly. Whilst she'd been concerned that Ezra was putting himself at danger by nursing his sick friends, she also knew that she had lost all right to dictate his actions. In typical Maude fashion, she chose to ignore what she couldn't control.

Growling a little, Josiah pushed himself off the door frame and closed the door with a bang before stomping down the hall to the stairs. Maude's musical laughter followed him.

Archie was sitting at his consultancy desk, riffling through the latest medical tomes that Ezra had ordered in when setting up the clinic. Stopping only when he saw something about influenza or pneumonia, he was on the last book and absorbed in an entry on the treatment of pneumonia when the door to the clinic slammed open, startling him into a gasp which prompted a coughing fit.

Margaret Larabee was seething as she stood in the doorway. How dare they try to keep her from her son! It was a mother's place to be beside her child when they were ill or in pain. Hadn't she coached and comforted her daughters through four births each? Did these foolish men think she'd do less for her son? Fixing her sights on the frail old man who appeared no healthier than those in his care, she honed in.

"Are you the doctor?"

Having recovered slightly, Archie gave one more delicate cough before wiping his mouth and hiding his blood stained handkerchief quickly. Feeling a bit faint from the lack of oxygen, he remained seated despite the obvious rudeness and replied, "Yes, Madam. Doctor Fletcher at your service. Forgive my not offering my hand and remaining seated, but I'm a tad unwell myself."

"How do you propose to care for my son, when you can barely help yourself? Where is Christopher? I demand that you take me to him."

Josiah chose that moment to arrive at the door, panting from his run up the street from the hotel. When he saw the determined woman making for the door, he hurried to put himself in her way, saying firmly, "Your son is being cared for by Nathan and Ezra, both of whom are fine healers."

"Nathan and Ezra! Forgive me, but how can an ex-slave and a gambler be better qualified to care for my son than a doctor or his own mother?"

Nathan and Ezra were both glued to their side of the door, shameless eavesdropping. Nathan stiffened at the slight and Ezra reached back to pat his friend's arm consolingly.

Decades of experience told Archie that this was fear and frustration talking and when the woman calmed down, she'd be mortified by her slight. Keeping his own tone professional and detached, he told her, "Nathan learned herbal healing from many a wise healing woman when he was a slave. He then learned many technical medical techniques as a stretcher bearer during the war. Since then he's taught himself through extensive reading, observation and experience. He is now my student and will have earned his own medical degree in a few short years. As to Ezra…"

Ezra chuckled warmly as Archie paused, knowing what his old friend was about to say about him.

"That young man is the most brilliant, intelligent, caring individual I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I had hoped at one point to send him through medical school and then go into practise with him, but a sneaky lawyer got to him first and stole him away. But before that he was the best damn nurse I've ever worked with and I've worked with some exceptionally talented nurses, including Florence Nightingale. So you'll forgive me, Mrs Larabee, when I tell you to pull yourself together and stop casting aspersions on people you know nothing about."

Silence rang through the clinic for a few moments. Josiah watched Margaret warily, unsure if this would calm the woman or incite her to higher rage. Archie watched Margaret placidly, knowing that she would see sense and was rewarded for that faith when he saw the anger fall from her face, replaced with the fear and worry that had been the source of the rage.

For her part, Margaret heaved in a huge, calming breath and released it slowly. Shame filled her as her words came back to her and she cursed the hot temper that she'd inherited from her mother and passed on to her son.

"I apologise, gentlemen. I let my anger get the better of me and you were the undeserving targets," she said, head up and eyes finding first Archie's and then Josiah's.

"Think nothing of it, my good woman."

"Happens all the time with Chris."

Both men replied at the same time, waving away her apologies graciously.

Chris woke from a fevered sleep to a sound he'd not heard in more than a decade, thinking at first that he was dreaming. Lying there holding his breath, he heard more snatches of his mother's voice and realised that he was awake so his fever must be causing hallucinations. Fear twisted in his gut as he remembered the raving delusions and intense nightmares that he'd experienced when he'd fallen ill during the war. He'd nearly killed Buck at one point, thinking he was one of the enemy. Opening his eyes blearily, he croaked, "Ez!"

Jerking away from the door, Ezra almost ran over to Chris' bed and sat beside him, asking softly, "What is it, Chris? Would you like something to drink?"

"Better get some more horse piss into me, Ez. I'm hearing things. Impossible things. Things that can't be there," confessed Chris, clinging to Ezra's hand as it came to rest on his. Fear shone in his eyes as he whispered, "Don't let me hurt anyone, Ez. Last time… last time… In the war. I hurt Buck. Don't let me hurt anyone again, Ez, even if ya got to tie me down."

"Shh, now, Chris. What impossible things are you hearing?"

"My M… I thought … I th-thought I heard my Mom," stammered Chris, closing his eyes when Ezra passed a blessedly cool, damp cloth over his face. The poultice on his chest was mostly dry and was starting to itch, but the sweat on his face was worse as it ran into his eyes and stung them, making the constant ache and burn even worse.

Smiling at the small sound of happiness that Chris made when the cool cloth came into contact with his overheated skin, Ezra soothed, "You did hear your mother, Chris. She arrived in town after you and Buck left for Skunkwater."

Eyes wide with amazement, Chris blurted, "But how? My letter wouldn't have reached her yet. How'd she know where I was?"

So Ezra filled Chris in on the details of his mother's appearance, all the while sponging away the dried poultice and generally cleaning his friend up.

"She shouldn't have come all that way on her own. What if something had happened to her? What the hell was Mabel and Beth thinking when they let her go on her own? Couldn't they have found someone to go with her? Damn foolishness…"

Grinning at Nathan as they were treated to some quality Larabee ranting, they both realised that the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree. Chris and his mother were so very alike.

"It's been my experience in life that mothers… well, mothers other than my own… do whatever the hell they want to do when it comes to their children's well-being, with little to no regard to their own. Why, my Emmy once stayed awake for thirty-six hours without food or respite to nurse Jamie though a bout of colic and headcold. By the end of it, she came out to announce that he was sleeping peacefully and promptly collapsed into my arms," recalled the gambler, combing his fingers through Chris' thick blond locks to try and convince the stubborn hair to fall away from his face. At least it wasn't Vin. That boy's hair just refused to behave.

"Yeah, Sarah did the same thing once. Adam took it into his head to run away 'cos I said he couldn't come with me and Buck to town. Boy decided to walk into town after me, without telling his Mom. She searched all over the ranch, then saddled up her horse and rode out searching for him. Have to give it to the boy, he had a great sense of direction and more grit than most adults. Buck and I met him as we rode home the next day; footsore, hungry and dirty but still determined to get to us. I'll never forget the way my heart clenched in my chest when I saw that little boy trudging towards me. Buck rode on ahead to put Sarah's mind at rest after we'd heard his story and found her wild-eyed and desperate in the barn saddling up a fresh animal. She'd ridden the first one into exhaustion try to find Adam. She'd even ridden most of the way into town, but Adam had heard her and hidden until she went back," reminisced Chris, his eyes tear filled and distant and his narrative interspersed with many hacking coughs. Finally he had to stop and gratefully sip at the tea that Nathan held out for him.

"Wasn't sure if Sarah was going to kill the boy with all the hugging she gave him when the old dog rode in with Adam asleep in front of him. Insisted on them both having baths and a hot meal before she curled up with Adam on the bed, still squeezing him to her. When they woke up, Chris gave that boy a serious talking to and I don't reckon Adam ever thought to disobey either parent again. Never raised his hand, but managed to convince his boy of his mistakes anyway. Ole Chris was the best Daddy I ever saw," murmured Buck drowsily from the other bed, before hunching over into an impressive coughing fit that made Nathan run over and fuss like a mother hen.

Chris wistfully looked at the door that currently stood between him and his mother. Memories flooded him of times when she'd nursed him when he was a child, patiently sponging him down and feeding him broth. Much the same way Ez did, he thought with a smirk.

"What?"

"Just thinking of my Mom and thinking on how you're my Mom now," mumbled Chris, almost asleep or he'd never have voiced that thought out loud. "Vin's too."

Mouth agape, Ezra stared at the now sleeping man before snapping his mouth shut at the snort of laughter from Nathan.

"It's true, Ez. Can't deny it. You fuss over those two just like a Momma," laughed Nathan, leaving his sleeping patient to take the cup over to wash it in painfully hot water.

Unable to refute the fact, Ezra settled for glaring at the healer and throwing Chris' cup into the bowl of water so it splashed a little on Nathan's shirt. When Nathan turned to complain, he laughed instead when Ezra stuck his tongue out at him petulantly.

Meanwhile, Margaret had been trying to convince Archie to let her in to help care for her son but was having no luck. She'd not met such a calmly intractable man since her father. Finally, she seated herself in one of the waiting chairs, folding her hands in her lap. When she saw the questioning gazes of the two men, she said calmly, "I'm not going anywhere until I see my son."

Josiah looked out the window and saw Vin riding past on Peso, slouching disconsolately. Sympathy for the boy made Josiah utter a soft sound that was enough to attract the attention of Margaret and Archie.

Coming over to look out the window too, Archie asked, "What is it, Josiah, old boy?"

"Vin. Poor boy is going out of his mind with worry. Chris and Ezra are brothers to him and he feels so useless with them shut away out of his reach. But he's going on with his duties nonetheless, out on patrol," replied Josiah, hoping that Vin's worry didn't blind him to attack or danger. He wasn't sure that they should continue to patrol outside town whilst they were so short handed. Perhaps he should send a telegram to the judge and see if he could send a few more men. Then he vetoed that idea as he realised that Nathan and Ezra would only be out of action for a week and it would take that long to get some of the Judge's men here. Most towns only had the one sheriff and maybe a deputy. Surely Four Corners would survive a week with three competent peacekeepers. Biting his lip, Josiah got the uneasy feeling that he'd just cursed them all with his thought.

Adelia made her way along the back of the building to the external door to the clinic and Archie's quarters, huffing as she carried a basket over one arm and a heavy pot of soup by its handles with folded dish towels. Giving the internal door a solid kick, she called, "Hey white boy, I got some vittles for you and Mr Nathan here and a pot of good chicken broth for Mr Chris and Mr Buck to help 'em along. I'm leaving it here by the door. Y'all just give me a minute to get out again, then come and get it, ya hear me."

Grinning widely, Ezra's stomach rumbled at the promise of Miss Adelia's food and he fairly flew to the door to reply, "Miss Adelia, you are an angel straight from Heaven. Thank you very much for remembering us. I suppose JD told you of our plight."

"Yup, poor boy is beside himself, so I fed him up. Something about being skinny makes a person all nerves. All y'all need to eat better. Now you just made sure that you eat all this and I'll be back in the morning with a mess more."

"Thank you again, Miss Adelia. Perhaps you could save Archie and Josiah some grief and go around front to convince Chris' mother to come over for some tea and cake with you," pleaded Ezra, knowing that no-one could resist Adelia when the woman was in full flow.

"Well, of course I can, sugar. Landsakes, poor woman must be going out of her mind with worry. Can't ya even open the door and let her see her boy from a distance? Then I'll take her away," bargained the wise woman, knowing that any woman who birthed someone as formidable as Chris Larabee had to be pretty stubborn her ownself. She may need a sweetener to get her own way with a woman like that, she thought.

Exchanging a speaking look with Nathan, who eventually nodded reluctantly, Ezra turned back to the door and told his waiting friend, "Make sure that all the doors of the surgery room are open and then knock. All of you cover your mouths with a handkerchief and keep them covered, all right? And make sure that Margaret knows that she's not to come in; tell Josiah to restrain her if he has to…"

"I hear ya, Mr Ezra. We'll do as you say," agreed Adelia, before she hurried around to the front of the clinic.

Moments later, an eager and fearful Margaret was positioned as close to the door of the back room as Josiah and Archie would allow, her handkerchief clutched to her mouth and nose as instructed. Adelia stood in front of the door, looking back over her shoulder to ensure that everyone was prepared before giving a sharp knock.

Nathan opened it with a clean rag tied over the lower part of his face and stood back to allow an unrestricted view of the room behind him.

Ezra had woken Chris and told him of his mother's need to see him. Nodding, the Hoosier let his brother quickly comb his unruly hair and do up the buttons on his nightshirt, before pulling the blankets up to his chest, leaving both arms on top of the covers. Feeling a strange mix of apprehension and excitement, he held Ezra in place by clasping his hand hidden by his side.

So many thoughts ran through his mind. What had his mother heard about him? Was she disappointed in him? Angry at him? Did she know about Sarah and Adam dying because of another woman's obsession with him? Was she going to yell at him for staying away so long? Would she look the same as he remembered? Would she even recognise him now?

Margaret drank in the sight of the son she'd thought long dead and sighed with relief. True, he looked haggard from being ill, but otherwise he seemed much the same to her. Same blond hair that just wouldn't stay combed back, same piercing clear eyes which were currently like burnt holes in a blanket with dark circles surrounding them, same stubborn set to the jaw although he was smiling at her. New shadows of painful loss lurked in his eyes, she noted sadly, seeing how the lost of his wife and son still haunted him. Longing to take him into her arms when she saw the uncertainty in his face, she called, "Christopher, it's good to see you, son. Even if the present circumstances aren't what I hoped for when I set out from the farm. Beth, Mabel and all the family send their love to you and wanted me to tell you how much you're missed. I wish I could hug you but we'll have to put that on hold, since your friends are being ridiculously protective."

Relief flooded through Chris as the warmth of the love in his mother's voice washed over him, bringing tears to his eyes as he breathed, "Momma."

"Yes, CJ, Momma's here, Momma's here," cooed Margaret, her own tears streaming down her face to wet the handkerchief held there. "Now, you just listen to your friends and get better. The sooner you get better, the sooner I can give you that hug, you hear me."

"Yes, Mom, I hear you," agreed Chris, beaming at his mother as he ruthlessly repressed the need to cough. His strength was starting to wane and he could feel his eyes starting to close, despite his need for this moment to last forever. As he faded back into sleep, he whispered something that only Ezra, who was the closest, heard.

Looking up into Margaret's eyes, so much like Chris', Ezra smiled and told her, "He said he's missed you."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

The week had nearly lapsed without any of the town folk falling ill and Chris was starting to show signs of improvement, although Buck continued to suffer. Archie had found a small note where a doctor had used percussive treatment to loosen the phlegm in the chest so that it could be expectorated. Therefore, each morning both patients were turned onto their stomachs, with their head hanging over the side of the bed where a bucket waited. Ezra and Nathan dutifully pounded on the broad upper backs of their friends with cupped hands, encouraging them to cough every few minutes. The treatment was unpleasant for all concerned but was certainly working.

Chris hated every minute of his confinement; the steam treatments that opened up his airways, having either Nathan or Ez thumping his back to make him choke, cough and gag up the vile crap from his lungs, the weakness of having to be helped to use the chamber pot, being given bed baths, having to be spoon fed his broth. It was humiliating and he hated it with a fiery passion not unlike the fires of Hades themselves. But he bore it with his usual stoic mask in place, which mostly fooled Nathan but didn't fool old Ez at all. The only bright spots in his day were the massage he got from Ez after the thumping treatment and the times when Ezra would stop his almost constant darting about to just sit and read to them.

Unsure just what he'd done to piss off the big man upstairs enough to warrant being this damn sick, Buck was utterly miserable. The harsh coughing had resulted in him straining a muscle in his back and side, making further coughing incredibly painful when it triggered muscle spasms that left him with tears trailing down his face. Ezra and Nathan tried to keep him comfortable with the same liniment that Ezra used on Vin, warmed flat rocks in the bed and Nathan's pain killing tea, but he was still in pain most of the time. He couldn't even escape in sleep as he would constantly wake himself with further coughing. Like Chris, he was uncomplaining but would allow his pain and weariness to shine through expressive eyes on occasion and then nestle happily into Ezra's resultant hug.

Nathan and Ezra were fairly certain that the danger of infection had passed but maintained their quarantine vigilantly nonetheless. They shared the chore of boiling the linens, prior to leaving them at the back door in wicker baskets for Mrs Hanrahan, the laundress, to collect and take away for normal washing. They took turns at sleeping whenever they could in order to stay fresh enough to help their friends. Food was plentiful and they'd taken to writing updates on their patients' progress and posting them on the backdoor for the many visitors.

Inez came by every day, pleading to see Buck, always leaving in tears when she was refused. Mary was more subdued, but still came to get updates on all the men. She and Chris were just friends, having had a frank discussion regarding Chris' inability to commit to her when he was still in love with his Sarah. After her initial hurt faded, Mary had to admit that she was glad that he'd done the gentlemanly thing, as she didn't want to spend the rest of her life trying to live up to a ghost. After some intense introspection, she had to confess that the feelings she had for the man weren't much more than friendship anyway. A schoolgirl crush and a need to feel safe, along with the desire to have a father for her son, made her imagine stronger feelings than she really had.

Margaret also made a twice daily pilgrimage to the clinic to check on the progress of her son and his friend, heartened to hear of his recovery however slow it may be. She's sent a telegram to her family in Indiana, informing them of her safe arrival in town. Then she'd written a long letter describing the town and all the people she'd met, telling them of Christopher's illness whilst assuring them that he was in very good hands and recovering quickly. Hopefully, she'd be able to send them another letter soon telling them of his complete recovery.

Miss Adelia kept a constant stream of food at their door, ably helped by Mrs Potter.

Vin, JD and Josiah shared out the duties of patrolling and manning the jail, deciding amongst themselves that they'd reduce the number of outer patrols to one a day. All three were exhausted and Vin was slowly stiffening up as he stubbornly refused to allow anyone else to attend his back. Vin and JD were also taking Chaucer, Pony and Grey out for exercise as often as they could, which only added to Vin's pain. Thankfully, so far there'd only been the one bar fight which was easily dispersed after Josiah knocked out the main protagonist and hefted him to the jail over one broad shoulder.

Each of the remaining peacekeepers also made a daily stop at the clinic, happy to get positive news that their sick friends were getting better. Knowing how much they worried, Nathan and Ezra were careful to keep any setbacks to themselves, unwilling to burden their outside friends any further.

"You ain't gonna make it any better by fretting, Ez," cautioned Nathan, sitting in one of the comfortable visitors chairs with a medical book.

Looking up from where he was sitting on the bed he'd been using, Ezra jerked his thumb from his mouth, knowing that Nathan had deduced his mental agitation from his nervous tell of chewing his thumb nail. It was disgusting habit and one he tried to repress ruthlessly, but it always cropped up when he was worried about a loved one. The loved one in this case was not his older brothers lying asleep in their sick beds, but rather a younger one who was sounding more and more ragged as each day passed.

"I know that, Nathan, but fretting is all that is available to me," replied the gambler, his voice fraught with frustration and anxiety.

"Look, quarantine is only gonna be for a few more days. Vin can last a few more days without a backrub," soothed Nathan, trying to help but unconsciously making it worse.

"It's more than a backrub, as you well know after I've shown you the massage technique to use on Buck and Chris," exclaimed Ezra, quickly lowering his voice when Chris stirred restlessly. "Vin's back is never going to heal, Nathan. His spine was injured when he was younger and was never treated properly. Cold weather makes it ache something fierce, causing all the muscles in his back to seize up. You saw for yourself how stiff and slow it made him, in the winter before he started coming to me for help. How fast do you think he'll be able to run or twist or scale a roof, should there be trouble, when he's like that?"

Nodding his understanding of the full magnitude of the problem, Nathan shrugged helplessly and said, "Okay, okay. I can see how him stiffening up could be a problem, but there's still nothin' to be done 'bout it. You can't go to him and he can't come to you. And he won't go to Josiah or JD, nor none of the ladies. Hey, you don't think Miss Nettie…"

Cutting him off, Ezra shook his head, saying, "Lord, the poor boy would be absolutely mortified if any of the ladies, even the redoubtable Mrs Wells, were to attempt to get their hands on his bare skin. He's wearing the hot rock belt that I gave him when he goes out on patrol, and rubbing the liniment into his back as far as he can reach, but he needs a massage. The hot baths with salts help, but only whilst he stays in the warmth and we know that Vin won't shirk his responsibility to the town. Arrrgh, it's just infuriating."

Just as Ezra flung himself from the bed and started over toward the oven to check if more wood was needed, Buck woke himself with a coughing fit. By the time Ezra had gotten to the man's bedside; Buck had finished coughing but was now rigid with pain.

"Ez," whimpered the big man, reaching out pleadingly.

Hauling Buck's larger frame up into his arms as he sat on the edge of the bed, Ezra held on as Buck laid his head on his shoulder. Firmly rubbing the spasming muscle, Ezra uttered a steady stream of soothing nonsense until he felt Buck sag into the embrace. Trying to lay him back against the pillows just made the big lug hold on tighter, so Ezra made himself more comfortable and settled in.

It wasn't the first time that Nathan had witnessed Ezra hugging Buck; the first being when the latter had experienced a bout of melancholy. During their confinement with this latest illness, he'd seen Buck reach out for Ezra quite often. Even Chris had seemed to look for the gambler to hold him after a couple of particularly frightening coughing fits where he'd felt like he was choking. Seeing this tender side of the gambler wasn't something he was used to, but he liked it. In fact, he was sort of tempted to ask Ezra to give him a massage. Until their enforced togetherness, Nathan hadn't really been able to picture the southerner as a nurse, but now he knew with certainty just how good Ezra was at the job. Snorting a little, he figured he shouldn't be surprised as the sneaky little Reb was good at everything he tried.

When Ezra heard Nathan snort, he carefully lowered the now sleeping Buck back to the pillows and turned to look at his friend quizzically. When Nathan just smiled at him fondly, he asked, "What?"

"Is there anything you're bad at?"

Smiling at the memory of Vin asking him the same thing once, Ezra gave the same answer, "Staying out of trouble."

This prompted both of them to laugh softly and start reminiscing about the many times that Ezra had talked himself into and out of trouble.

Every time Peso's hoof hit the ground a shock of pain drilled through Vin's back and legs, causing him to whimper to himself. Thanks to the ministrations of his brothers, his fractious back hadn't been this bad in a long time, but it was paining him something dreadful just now. Last time he'd been to the clinic to check on them, Ezra had urged him to ask Josiah to rub his back but the thought of the preacher's work roughened hands pushing into his painful back just made him shudder. JD's would be eager to help him, but his enthusiasm would create more pain than relief. No, he would just have to suffer until the quarantine was lifted. Gasping in pain, Vin blinked away the tears as Peso mis-stepped on the uneven ground. Sniffing a little, he sighed as he realised that the worse pain was caused by the fact that he missed his brothers.

Sitting at his desk in the jail, JD sorted through the new wanted posters, committing them to memory before adding them to the pile in alphabetical order. They always kept the notice they'd been sent when Vin's bounty had been rescinded on the top of the pile. Yawning, he stood up and stretched out his arms before swinging them in circles vigorously, stiff after sitting still for so long. Wandering over to the window, he gazed out at the quiet streets, searching for any trouble. As peaceful as it had been, he wasn't really expecting to see anything untoward. Four Corners was a nice, respectable town for the most part now. When a trail herd rode through and the cowboys came in for a hot bath, a hot meal and a drink, it got a bit rowdy but overall it was peaceful. Most bank robbers gave their town a wide berth, knowing the reputations of its peacekeepers.

Josiah sighed as he sat back on his heels and surveyed the smooth surface of the pew he'd just sanded. Running a hand lightly over the wood to try and detect any further imperfections, his thoughts turned back to his four brothers locked in the clinic. The overwhelming anxiety he'd felt initially had abated somewhat with each days report of improvement, but he was still worried and wouldn't rest easy until he'd seen them all with his own eyes. Their two youngest had been keeping each other busy with the patrols and jail shifts, but he'd been kept busy with Margaret and Maude. The former was chomping at the bit to get to her son, but Miss Adelia had distracted her by asking her to help plan some meals for the four in the clinic. Ezra had reported that Chris was starting to get his appetite back, so Margaret had been making his favourite meals and sending them in hopes of tempting her son. So far, he'd been most enthusiastic about the oatmeal cookies that she'd baked for him. They were small and could be eaten sparingly. Of course, they were a little taste of home too.

Maude was feeling better and therefore starting to become more like her old self, demanding that Josiah come and escort her to the Saloon so she could ply her trade. The first day she'd entered the Saloon, Inez had told her that she wasn't to cheat her customers or she'd be ejected. The relationship between the bar manageress and her ex-boss was still somewhat strained after the broom incident. Maude complied with the fiery younger woman's directive and only made modest gains, similar to those of her son when he was there.

Then there was Gloria, who took up his time in a wholly more delightful way. A big, toothy grin broke out on his face as he thought on the comely shop-keeper. In fact, it was time to start getting cleaned up to attend supper with his lady. Yes sir, Gloria Potter wasn't as ravishing as the women he usually fell for, but she was beautiful on the inside which was far more important. As she relinquished her mourning attire and softened the severe hairstyle she'd adopted, her own quiet loveliness was starting to shine through more and more. Josiah thanked the good Lord every day for having Ezra nudge him into courting Gloria Potter.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Vin rode along listlessly, worried about his brothers and wondering how they were doing. Peso could sense that he was distracted and would crowhop every now and then peevishly, seeing if he could dislodge his rider. Normally he got an apple before he was taken out on a ride, but there'd been no apple today and he wasn't a happy horse as a result. So far he hadn't managed to unseat Vin, who was born to ride and simply compensated for his cantankerous mount automatically with a hiss of pain, but that wasn't stopping Peso from repeated attempts. Giving a disgusted snort and vigorous head shake that rattled the reins, the big horse plodded onwards until he suddenly recognised a path. Altering his course, the grumpy gelding stepped out in a slightly sprightlier manner that went unnoticed by his morose rider.

Nettie was doing her weekly bake, whilst Casey was out tending to farm chores. Looking out the window at the sound of a horse, she smiled happily at the sight of Vin's slouched form astride his big black devil who was standing stock still in her yard. The smile faded as her sharp eyes took in the way Vin looked up at his surroundings in surprise when his horse refused to move in accordance to his rider's absent-minded urging. Her boy was the most alert and observant man she'd ever met, constantly aware of where he was and who was near, so for him to arrive at her place without noticing was a bad sign. Even with the bounty gone, he was still a target for any ne'er-do-well in the vicinity wanting to make a name for themselves. Dusting her hands off on her apron, she made her way out to the porch and called to him.

It had taken a moment for Peso's stillness to register but when it did Vin looked around to see why his horse had stopped. Seeing Nettie's little farmhouse in front of him was a bit of shock, since he'd had no intention of coming this way on patrol. Frowning down at his horse, he whispered harshly, "What're we doing here, ya good fer nothin' mule."

Peso pinned his ears back and stomped his front leg impatiently. If his damn man would just get off him, he could wander over to the barn where he was sure there was someone who'd give him his damn apple.

Sighing when he heard Nettie call him, Vin swung down off Peso without an ounce of his usual grace and tied the reins over the horn after a few moments of breathing. Giving the big black a shove, the Texan watched with a knowing smirk as the horse eagerly took off to the barn where Casey was standing and waving to Vin. Waving back stiffly, he turned to greet Nettie who he could sense was anxiously waiting for him.

Standing on the porch, Nettie waited until Vin was part way up the steps and therefore nearly eyelevel with her, then she grabbed his shoulders. Staring at him, she barked, "What's wrong with you, boy?"

Shrugging with a hastily hidden wince, he averted his eyes, knowing that she'd read him like a book and grunted, "Nothin' wrong, Miz Nettie."

"Uh huh," grunted the old woman, before releasing one of his shoulders and using that hand to grab his stubbled chin and turn his face to hers, "and I'm not a wizened old crone."

Sucking in a breath as the pain in his gut flared at her casual use of Ezra's term of - what was now - endearment, Vin stared at her wildly.

When tears filled the sky blue eyes, Nettie knew she was close to the matter and pushed, "This nothing got something to do with Fancy Pants being locked away in the clinic with Chris and Buck all week?"

Tears that had been poised on his lashes fell as he nodded, thankful when Nettie gathered him into her arms and held him firmly. Raising his own arms to hug her back, he started spewing forth a torrent of words, telling Nettie everything that had occurred in town.

For her part, Nettie just stood and sheltered her boy through the worst of the storm, listening to his version of events despite having heard the doings from one of her neighbours. Vin's hat had fallen off and hung from its stampede strap, so she raised a work roughened hand to tenderly stroke his tangled curls. Influenza was nothing to be messed with as she well knew. Damn sickness had carried off one of her brothers and a grandmother when she was a child and one of her own babies after she'd married. Casey had come up the house and was staring at them with growing terror, imagining something happening to JD being the cause of Vin's upset.

"What if Chris d-dies, Miz Nettie? What if E-Ez catches it 'n dies too. I's used ta 'em lookin' after me now. Don't think I kin take havin' ta take care o' myself no more. Ev-Everyone who loves me d-dies…" mumbled Vin, tightening his hold on the woman as if Death was behind her threatening to take her too. "I's scared."

Both his tears and words dried up with that admission and he waited for her to tell him to grow up and act like the man that he was, feeling hot and prickly all over from shame and embarrassment. But her hand continued to stroke over his hair, her hold never lessened and she didn't move away from him in disgust, so he dared to believe she'd stick by him.

"Influenza ain't something to be fooled with, so you've got cause to be scared," said Nettie, "Only a fool ain't scared of sickness like that and you sure ain't a fool, Vin Tanner. But you can't let that fear rule you. They're only keeping you out for a couple more days. You can be strong for them for a couple more days, can't you? Anytime it gets too much, you just come on out here to me and I'll hold on to you until you can be strong again. Chris and Ezra ain't the only two in the world wanting to look out for you, son. You just remember that."

With a deep breath, Vin pulled away from the woman he thought of as a second mother and nodded shyly.

"Good, now come inside and have some pie. You can take one back for Fancy Pants too, though I don't suspect he'll be so fond of it now that he has Miss Adelia baking for him all the time."

Sniffing and wiping at his face, Vin cleared his throat a couple of times before saying, "Naw, iffun ya talkin' 'bout yer apple pie, then he still favours it above any others. He told me he loves yer apple pie 'n won't settle fer eating no-one else's. Same fer Miz Potter's peach cobbler and Miz Adelia's cinnamon rolls. Says ya all have 'achieved perfection in each confection and he will not accept second best'."

Despite Vin's near perfect imitation of the Southerner's distinctive drawl and word choice, Nettie turned and regarded Vin with a sceptical expression. "Mr Fancy Pants really said that?"

"Yup. Wouldn't lie ta ya, Miz Nettie."

An astonished but pleased expression crossed the old woman's face at the thought that the gambler, who'd eaten meals in fine hotels and restaurants, thought her simple apple pie was the best. Cutting up one of the pies she'd made that morning and dowsing it in thick cream, she slid plates in front of Vin and Casey as they sat like eager children at her kitchen table. Sitting down with her own plate, she smiled smugly around her first mouthful. Darned Fancy Pants gambler and his silver tongue. Charming itch is what he was.

Buck had woken himself coughing again and was currently recovering from that by leaning against Ezra's stocky chest with his dark head on the broad shoulder attached to the chest. Heaving in breaths that just weren't giving him enough oxygen, he struggled with the rising sense of panic, clutching nervously at Ezra's forearm.

Chris reclined on his stack of pillows, listlessly watching his friend's battle. His own breathing wasn't so bad now, even though the cough persisted. Seeing his Mom had infused him with a fresh fighting spirit and he was determined to beat this sickness and get the promised hug. Sure, he was a grown man and a dangerous man to some, but to his Mom he was just a son and he wanted to feel that again. Life was simpler back when he was just a son.

Trying to hold Buck as upright as possible to keep his airways clear, Ezra rubbed soothing circles on the big man's chest. Frankly, he was worried about Buck now more than Chris who seemed to have turned a corner. Ez and Nathan had been treating Buck with the same things that had worked on Chris, but it didn't seem to be having the same effect. Both were beginning to suspect that whilst each had started with the same illness, they'd each developed a different one now. Hearing squeaking coming from the man he held, Ezra thought it was like the noise made by colicky babies.

"Nathan, could you put some of the eucalyptus leaves in a bowl of boiled water and bring it over with a towel, please."

Looking up at the request, Nathan tilted his head quizzically for a moment before nodding and setting about preparing the inhalant for his patient. Just as worried by Buck as his friends were, he wanted to get on top of this damn illness as quickly as possible. He still didn't think it would kill either of his friends, but there were no certainties in life and he wasn't prepared to lose any of the men he claimed as family.

"He'll be alright, won't he?"

Looking over Buck's dark head, Ezra smiled reassuringly at Chris, who had turned on his side to watch his friends with a frown of worry on his pale face.

"Buck will be just fine, Chris. He just needs some steam to help him breathe," soothed the gambler, holding the larger man to his chest with one arm and holding his head to his shoulder with the other , his thumb rubbing lightly over the high cheekbone.

Appearing at Buck's side with the bowl and towel, Nathan placed it in the sick man's lap and helped Ezra ease him over it before shaking the towel out and throwing it over to trap the steam.

"Ez, don't get me wrong but where'd you come by this caring side? I mean, we've all met Maude and she don't exactly strike me as the hugging type so you can't have learned it from her. And most men ain't exactly encouraged to hug 'n cuddle each other neither. I mean, my Daddy would hug us when we's little but the boys sort o' grew out of it," asked the healer, one large hand rubbing over Buck's back as he started to cough weakly.

Unsure if he should be insulted or not, Ezra looked over and saw that Chris was looking slightly more awake and interested in the conversation, so he sighed and said, "Maude wasn't always the way she is now. Before my father died, Maude was very affectionate towards me. My father was also a very tactile person. After he died, Maude became cold and distant and as a child I automatically assumed I'd done something wrong. I could have quite easily become just like Maude, but I was fortunate to encounter certain people in my life who showed me that it wasn't weakness to show your emotions. I had occasional lapses after I'd encountered betrayal or tr-tragedy…"

Stopping to gather himself, Ezra was surprised when his hand was grasped by Buck's since he'd thought the man was preoccupied with the treatment he was undergoing. A smile tugged at his lips as he gave the big, rough hand a squeeze then, after taking a deep breath, he continued, "During those lapses I would present the cool, uncaring façade that y'all saw when we first met. But certain people would sneak in under my defences and others just blasted them apart."

"I'm betting Vin was sneaky and Emmaline blasted," observed Chris, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

"You would win that bet," allowed Ezra with a fond smile towards his big brother. "For the record, the rest of you gentlemen were also sneaky, but Vin was the trail blazer for you. The first blaster was my Aunt Grace, who took me in when I was a child at Maude's insistence. She just mowed down all my emotional barricades by loving me fiercely and showing it with every word, thought and deed. It didn't matter where we were, she would insist on holding my hand or pat my cheek. Emmy was much like her and would often stop and kiss me whenever she was feeling particularly fond of me."

Chris chuckled as his younger brother blushed at the memory, before coughing lightly and saying, "Sound like Sarah. That woman once kissed me in the middle of the store, just because I told her she should buy the fancy leather covered journal she was looking at… Almost got us thrown out by the owner."

A deep chuckle emerged from under the towel along with a muffled, "I remember that."

Smiling as the two old friends shared a memory; Ezra leaned over and put his ear to Buck's back, listening to his breathing. Deciding that his friend had gained all that he was going to from the treatment, he nodded to Nathan who took the bowl and towel away. Taking up the face flannel from the bowl of cool water on the bedside table, he wrung out the excess water and used it wipe the accumulated sweat and moisture from Buck's face as his friend flopped back onto the mound of pillows behind him.

Rinsing and wringing the flannel, Ezra started wiping down Buck's neck and chest making him sigh happily, thankful that his lungs once again worked the way they should.

"Okay, so you had women to show you that it was okay to be lovin' towards 'em, but what about men. Men ain't generally goin' about huggin' each other or holdin' hands," prompted Nathan, returning with a mug of nasty smelling potion and hauling Buck up to force it on him.

Ignoring the silent plea for mercy from the cobalt blue eyes of his brother, Ezra squeezed his hand in encouragement, nodded and replied, "You have two of my uncles, Archie and a dear friend to thank for that. Uncle Hamish and Uncle Stanley were both very affectionate towards me, in much the same way Buck is towards JD and anyone else he considers family. My hair was ruffled, I was wrestled with, I was tickled, I was hugged and cuddled, had my hand shaken and held, my shoulder slap and my cheek patted. They both had deep booming laughs and smiles that made the clouds clear; bringing sunshine and warmth with their mere presence."

The other three men stayed respectfully silent, knowing how hard it was for Ezra to open up like this and reveal his past.

Clearing his throat of grief, the loss of his beloved Uncle Hamish still raw, Ezra continued quietly, "Archie would sit by my bedside, holding my hand for hours and telling me of his travels in a soft voice, trying to distract me from the agony of my head wound. I couldn't sleep due to the pain and the nightmares. I had already become dangerously dependant on laudanum and refused to take any more. The nights were the worse, with the silence of the night broken only by the moans and crying of the wounded. If I had had access to a firearm, I would have ended my misery once and for all. As it was, I was too weak to leave my bed and too addled to contrive of any way to end my life. Archie took pity on me and in doing so, saved my life and taught me how the touch of kindness could make all the difference when a person is ill or dying. My friend, Etienne, taught me that specific touch could influence the body either negatively or positively by showing me certain points to press. The massages you've seen me give Vin and that both Buck and Chris have benefitted from this week are an example of the positive effects."

Nodding in understanding, Nathan reached across Buck and squeezed Ezra's shoulder, saying solemnly, "Thanks for answerin' my question, Ez. Know it was hard on you."

A slow, beautiful smile lit the Southerner's face as he replied, "You're welcome, Nathan, but it wasn't any great hardship to remember the love shown to me. I've been a remarkably lucky man in that regard."

"Me too, Ez. Had me a lot o' friends over the years, but I was real lucky to find the old dog over there. Not many kids from the respectable families were allowed to play with us cathouse kids, but old Chris didn't care for none of that and neither did his Ma. His old man wasn't real happy for him to be hanging around with the likes o' me, but it didn't scare him off. Chris always treated my Ma and the other ladies real respectful too. We've had our ups and downs over the years, but I wouldn't trade him for anything. And now I've got JD and you and the others. Growing up I had a lot of hugs and kisses from the ladies, but I learned right quick that you didn't go round touching other men like that unless you knew 'em real well. Some men took it the wrong way and either beat you up, or wanted to take it further than I wanted, ya know," rambled Buck, on his way to slumber thanks to the tea Nathan had given him.

Stroking his long fingers through Buck's messy hair, Ezra nodded his understanding.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with two men being like that I don't reckon, so long as they're both willin', but I always liked the softness of the ladies," explained Buck, causing the other three to smile.

"I agree with you, Buck," offered Ezra, remembering men from his past who had been treated with much less tolerance and far more violence due to just such proclivities. "Love should be encouraged in all its forms."

"My sweet 'nez been by today?"

Chuckling, Nathan replied, "Yeah Buck, she was by earlier asking on your sorry ass. Says to tell you to behave and do what we say so you can get better and get back to annoying her."

The soft, loving smile that lit Buck's face was so different to his usual lecherous grin that all of his friends sucked in a breath.

"I do believe she loves me, fellas," sighed Buck, slipping into sleep and happy dreams of a life with his fiery Mexican love.

Placing Buck's lax hand back on the bed, Ezra sighed and whispered, "Yes, Buck, I do believe you're right."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Ezra was standing near the back of the clinic near the stove, leaning on the back wall as he waited for the kettle to boil. He and Nathan were going a little stir crazy from being shut in the clinic for so long without any real exercise. Currently daydreaming about riding Chaucer in full gallop across their favourite flat stretch, his fingers twitched as though grasping reins.

Nathan had been trying to work off energy by doing push-ups and sit-ups. Knowing that they were both getting enough exercise just from looking after Buck and Chris, which required lifting them often and running around the clinic fetching and carrying, Nathan figured the look of restlessness on the gambler's face had more to do with a need for fresh air. There were no windows in this back section of the clinic and they were both pining for the sunshine and open air of the outdoors. Fresh air and reassuring himself that Vin and Josiah were alright would soon see the gambler back to his usual self.

A sudden thump on the back door had Ezra springing off the wall in surprise, causing Nathan to laugh as the look of shock on the Southerner's face was priceless. The healer watched as Ezra rubbed at his chest, trying to soothe his heart back into a normal rhythm. The scowl that his friend threw at him just made him laugh harder. Yup, cabin fever had set in big time.

Clearing his throat, Ezra called, "Who's there?"

"Ez, 's me, Vin. Please let me in, please?"

Straining to hear the tracker's hoarse whisper, Ezra's heart beat faster as he picked up on the pain in his younger brother's voice. Looking up at Nathan, who had come up to his side and sobered fast at hearing Vin's voice, he raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Tomorrow is the last day of the quarantine. Neither of us is showing any sign of being ill. Chris is much improved and Buck, well Buck is still sick but I don't think it's anything he'll pass on to anyone. What do you think?"

Nathan could see the tension in Ezra and was about to reply when they were interrupted by Adelia's voice.

"What're you doin' there, Mr Vin?"

Ezra and Nathan stiffened at the sound of Adelia shrieking, although the sound was smothered as though she'd covered her mouth with her hands.

"What's wrong wi' you, Mr Vin? Where's all that blood comin' from?"

Nimble hands swiftly threw the bolt on the door before Ezra threw the door wide open, causing the injured tracker to tumble forward into his arms. Sinking to the floor, he cradled Vin in his arms and looked up at Nathan with huge, terrified eyes, barely noticing that Chris had staggered out of bed and was by his side.

Seeing his young brother fall inside, only stopping short of the floor thanks to Ezra's strong arms, almost stopped Chris' heart. Forgetting his own aches and pains, he threw the covers back and strode over to kneel beside Ezra, leaning on the shorter man as he put his hand on Vin's curly hair. Terrified at how pale and still Vin was, he looked to Nathan as well.

"What have you done to yourself now, Vin," mumbled Nathan, intent on his patient and ignoring the two sets of wide frightened eyes, one set green and the other hazel. "Cut on his forehead ain't too bad, just bled a lot like head wounds do. Arm is broke. Looks like he used it to stop hisself failin'. Can't see no bullet holes in him, but I'll need to strip him 'fore I can say fer sure."

Watching anxiously as Nathan made his way down the lanky body he held, Ezra tried to accommodate the searching hands as best he could without every letting go of Vin entirely. Leaning back into Chris a little, he noted the hand their older brother had placed possessively on Vin's head, as though he were preparing to defend the younger man against Death himself.

Pulling Vin's boots off and tossing them to a spot beside the door, Nathan carefully felt down each of the long, buckskin clad legs and found that the knee and ankle of the left leg were swollen. Sitting back on his ankles and looking at the two scared faces of Vin's heart brothers, he said, "Best I can tell, boy got hisself thrown off that mule he calls a horse, then dragged a bit. Leg ain't broke, but the ankle and knee are strained and swollen. Would surprise me if that fractious back o' his ain't all hinked up too."

Chris released the breath he'd been holding, turned his head away to cough into the crook of his elbow a couple of times, then leaned down to press his forehead to the non-injured side of Vin's head.

"I'm going to shoot that damn mule," growled Chris, his fingers buried in Vin's hair.

"Weren't … weren't P-Peso's fault," whispered Vin, defending his horse after hearing Larabee's comment upon regaining consciousness. Realising that Ezra was holding him, he curled up and turned into the southerner's chest seeking warmth and security. Whimpering when his injured arm shot pain up into his shoulder, he pressed his face against Ezra's neck. "M-Missed ya, Ez."

Blinking tears away furiously, Ezra pressed a tender kiss to Vin's head before replying in voice made gruff from repressed emotion, "Missed you too, Vin."

Allowing the brothers a few moments to reconnect, Nathan smiled happily at the way the three head were leaning in close. Then he'd cleared his throat and suggested, "Time to get the fool up onto a bed and ease his hurts."

Nodding, Ezra placed his arm under Vin's knees and stood with no apparent effort with Vin cradled in his arms. Striding to the bed he'd been using, he carefully laid Vin down onto it, keeping him in a sitting position for Nathan to start stripping him of coats and shirts.

Trying to focus blurry eyes on his oldest brother, who had staggered over to sit shivering in the visitor's chair beside what was now Vin's bed, the tracker continued, "Weren't P-Peso's f-fault. 'S cold out there 'n tha ground's icy. I's worried 'bout all y'all n' weren't payin' 'ttention… Ow!"

"Sorry, Vin. How many damned layers ya got on ya skinny self?"

"He feels the cold, Nathan. You know that. Better that he's warm, don't you think?"

"Yeah… what the hell is this?"

"'S ma hot water belt that Ez had made fer me. Water in tha canteens 's usually hot, but I's been out in tha cold a spell gettin' back here, so 's cold now," explained Vin wearily, leaning his aching head on Ezra's broad shoulder and clenching a fistful of the southerner's silk shirt in his good hand.

Nathan was examining the belt that he'd removed, admiring the design and casting an eye towards the ingenious gambler. Damn man thought of everything. "Should patent this, Ez. I can think of a lot of folk who would benefit from it."

Elegantly shrugging the shoulder that wasn't currently adorned with a shaggy head, Ezra offered, "Anyone who needs it is welcome to the design, Nathan. I have more than enough money to last me the rest of my life, so have no need for more. Although don't tell Maude I said that; she's throw a fit and set back her recovery a month."

Chris chuckled at that thought, drawing the attention of the healers.

"Dammit, Chris, what are you still doin' out of bed? You're still sick your ownself and sitting around in the chill will make you sicker," fussed Nathan, coming around to physically haul the still weak man up and manhandle him over to his bed. "Got no more sense than God gave a goose. Ya got nothing on ya feet or legs, just a thin nightshirt on yer back and chest. Damn fool."

Trying to growl just made Chris cough and he had to admit, if only to himself, that it was wonderful to be lying down again with the warm covers over him. He was still propped up, so he could see across the room to where Ezra was continuing where Nathan had left off in stripping the tracker of his clothes.

Adelia had decided that quarantine was now over, so she was currently at the stove boiling water. She'd made a cup of tea with lots of honey and some whiskey and carried it over to where Nathan was berating the sickly blond.

"Boy, you leave him be and go over to Mr Vin now," scolded Adelia, putting the cup on the bedside table and making shooing motions with her apron at the much taller man. "Don't make me cut a switch, boy, 'cos ya know I will. I'll take care of Mr Chris here, so you go on and help Mr Ezra."

Chastened, Nathan scurried back over to Vin, pleased to see that Ezra had gotten him stripped down, under the blanket and was currently sponging the dried blood from the tracker's face and hair. Leaning down to get a closer look at the cut, he whispered, "Damn woman is bossy."

"Don't you be cussing me neither!"

Ezra laughed gaily, having known that Adelia had exceptional hearing and that Nathan would be caught. Vin smirked up at him, although the noise wasn't doing a lot for her headache he was happy to be back with Ezra.

"Sorry, Miss Adelia," mumbled Nathan, blushing hotly and glaring at the laughing gambler as though it were his fault.

Between the three of them, Nathan, Ezra and Adelia soon had Chris and Vin cleaned, dosed, warmed and snoozing. Buck had slept through the whole commotion thanks to his exhaustion and a rather strong cup of Nathan's tea. Vin had had his first massage in a week and was now deeply asleep and relatively painfree, although he was on his back with his knee and ankle propped up on pillows. His arm had been set and splinted and was resting on another pillow. Ezra reclined in the visitor's chair next to him, legs spread out in front of him, with his hand held firmly by Vin even in sleep.

Adelia had bustled away to discretely inform the remaining two peacekeepers that the quarantine was over. Ezra had cautioned her not to tell everyone as he didn't think Buck, in particular, was up to a flood of visitors. He'd also asked her to caution JD to keep his enthusiasm down to a dull roar.

"Ez? Nathan? Can we come in?"

Speak of the devil, thought Ezra, exchanging a weary look with Nathan.

JD had wasted no time in hustling himself to the clinic from the jail once Miss Adelia had given him the joyous news. Fairly aquiver with excitement, he could barely restrain himself from just busting through the door and rushing to Buck's side. Josiah had been with him at the jail and had asked Miss Adelia to go and fetch Margaret Larabee on the quiet. Just as excited as JD, but much better at containing his emotions, Josiah was resisting the same urge to walk through the door without invitation.

Opening the door to see his two grinning friends, Nathan couldn't help smiling in return. Standing back he warned in a low tone, "JD, you have to be quiet now, ya hear. They's still sick, just not catching."

Nodding solemnly, JD sidled past Nathan and made a beeline for Buck's side, missing Vin in the other bed altogether. Josiah, however, paused in front of his old friend and assessed him silently before gathering him in for a bear hug and saying, "You look tired, brother."

Hugging back and resting his head on Josiah's broad, strong shoulder, Nathan sighed gustily and replied, "That's 'cos I am."

Releasing Nathan but keeping his hands on his shoulders, Josiah offered, "Why don't you go and have a soak in a tub, then get a hot meal and sleep in your own bed tonight? I'll stay here with the boys. I can always get Archie if something happens."

The sounded like heaven to Nathan, but he turned to check on Ezra first.

"Go, my friend. I will stay here for another night or two, since Vin is here now too. Although I might pop out for a bath and a change of clothes later," urged Ezra, knowing that Nathan desperately needed a break.

"Thanks, Ez," grinned the healer, spinning on his heel and running for the door. Once he cleared the back door, he kept running; rejoicing in the freedom of movement after so long cooped up, he sprinted down the backs of all the buildings in a long circuit before finally coming back to the livery and leaping up the stairs to his rooms. Grabbing some clean clothes, he jogged back to the bath house, looking forward to a long hot soak.

"We need to replenish our supplies for the clinic. I think it would be a wonderful idea for Nathan to head out to the Village and collect what they've gathered and dried for us, don't you? Maybe spend some time with his lovely lady, Rain?"

"You read my mind," rumbled Josiah, a huge toothy grin on his face. Making his way over to where Ezra was sprawled, he cast the same appraising eye over his adopted child and came to the same conclusion. Laying his huge, warm hand against the side of Ezra's face, he said, "You're exhausted, son."

"I wouldn't say exhausted," argued Ezra, nonetheless leaning into the touch unconsciously. "But I am looking forward to reacquainting myself with my feather bed when everyone has recovered."

"What happened to Vin?"

"We didn't get the whole story before he sank into the arms of Morpheus, but I think Peso slipped on some ice when Vin was preoccupied with fretting about us. His foot tangled in the stirrup and he wrenched both his ankle and knee on his way out of the saddle. Then he broke his arm and hit his head when he met the unforgiving ground," replied the gambler, stroking his thumb comfortingly over Vin's knuckles.

Grimacing in sympathy, Josiah rested a hand on the uninjured knee and queried, "Was he dragged?"

"No, but I imagine Peso danced around in circles a while trying to work out what was going on with his man, unintentionally injuring him further by twisting the leg. There's no hoof prints on him, so Peso never stomped him. All in all, he was quite lucky," said Ezra, shielding his mouth as he yawned mightily. "Excuse me."

"How's Buck doin'? He don't look much better."

Glancing over to where JD was standing over Buck, holding his hand anxiously, Ezra told him, "He's getting better, JD, but he has a way to go. I'd say he'll be a patient here for at least another week."

"But he will get better. He ain't gonna… he ain't gonna … d-die," stammered JD, looking and sounding all of twelve years old with his wide, doe-like brown eyes flooded with unshed tears and his lower lip quivering.

"No, son. Buck isn't going to die. Nor is Chris," reassured Ezra gently.

"Of course he's not going to die. My son is too stubborn to let a trifling case of pneumonia lay him out."

Struggling to his feet, Ezra let go of Vin's hand and greeted his friend's mother warmly, "Mrs Larabee, forgive me, Margaret, how good to see you. Please, take the chair beside Chris' bed. I'm afraid all three patients have had a dose of medicinal tea that will see them asleep for hours yet. But I'm sure you're quite happy to sit by his side regardless."

"I am," agreed the older woman graciously, sinking into the comfortable chair and taking her son's lax hand in her own. Tracing his long fingers with her own, she felt the callouses made from regular use of a gun, along with those made by handling the reins of a headstrong horse and the tools required for building and maintaining a ranch. Holding his hand to her cheek, she allowed a few tears to fall as she sent a fervent prayer of thanks to her maker, so very grateful to having her son returned to her.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the delay. Life has been all consuming lately and my muse ran screaming for the forest, trailing ink tears and despair behind her. I had to get Vin to track her for me and then have Ezra coax her back. Thanks, boys.**

Chris was dreaming of his home in Indiana, nose twitching as he ran barefoot over the lawn to the back door of their homestead and bursting into the warm kitchen, the air redolent with the smells of roasting meat and baked goods. His grandfather sat in the corner smoking his pipe and reading the paper, with his ancient dog, Rusty, sleeping at his feet; the dog uttering little yips and jerking his paws as he dreamed happy doggy dreams. Chris' little sister, Mabel, was lying in her crib near his grandfather, gurgling happily and waving her moist, little fists in the air as she kicked her feet gaily. His mother was removing a tray of oatmeal cookies from the oven and turned to him when he entered, smiling and calling his name.

"Christopher. Christopher dear, wake up now," urged Margaret, patting her son's chest with one hand and raking the fingers of the other through his flaxen hair. Fondly gazing at the sweet smile on Chris' face, she marvelled at how he could still look like a little boy – her little boy - even after all this time; the tragedies and harshness of his life stripped away by sleep.

Unwilling to be dragged from his pleasant dream, Chris frowned and pouted a little before mumbling querulously, still half asleep, "Momma?"

Chuckling at the face Chris had pulled, which reminded her of times past when she'd had to wake her son for school, Margaret smoothed out the wrinkled brow with her thumb and ordered, "Yes, it's me, CJ. Now wake up for Momma. It's time to eat."

Buck and JD stopped and stared agape at the tender interaction between their usually grumpy friend and his formidable mother. The spoon loaded with rich beef broth that JD had been in the process of moving to Buck's mouth dripped onto the cloth under the older man's chin unnoticed.

Vin's one functioning eye – the other was swollen shut from where his head had impacted with the frozen ground when he fell from his horse – blinked rapidly, as his mind filled with his few memories of his own mother. Swallowing hard, he smiled gratefully at Ezra when the gambler distracted him with another one of Adelia's light, fluffy biscuits, which Ezra had buttered and topped with some of Ms Nettie's delectable peach preserves.

Josiah had left earlier to check on the town and Nathan in particular, sensing that the healer could do with a little company who wasn't sick or wanting to discuss the sick. Besides, he'd missed the younger man and was looking forward to one of their regular nights of chess and debate. He'd promised Ezra that he would suggest Nathan take a trip out to the Seminole Village the next day, staying overnight before returning. He'd blushed a little at Ezra's knowing smile, when the gambler had asked the ex-preacher to see Mrs Potter about collecting the supplies they used in barter with the villagers, for the healing plants they collected and dried. The costs of the supplies were covered by the gambler, of course, and he always ensured that there were more than enough for the exchange. Any surplus was always left with the excuse that it was easier to leave it than haul it back to town. Kojay just smiled knowingly at Nathan and asked him to pass on his thanks to the squirrelly gambler.

After running back and forth to make sure that the men had all the hot food that they could possibly want, Adelia had huffed with satisfaction before hugging an unsuspecting Ezra tightly to her bosom for a few moments, before gathering up a basket of dirty linens whilst announcing that she was going to take it to the laundry. Those left alert and observing chuckled to themselves as they watched a flustered, red-faced Ezra try to straighten his hair and catch his breath after nearly suffocating in his old friend's ample cleavage.

Nose twitching again at the smell of real food, Chris awoke reluctantly, opened his eyes and saw his mother smiling back at him from where she was leaning on the side of his bed. Taking in the new lines and wrinkles on her face and the grey in her hair, he decided that his mother was aging well. Tentatively meeting her eyes, expecting to see disapproval and disappointment, Chris was amazed and relieved to find only love and acceptance shining from the achingly familiar eyes. Chest tight from emotion, rather than illness, his own eyes filled with tears and he was overcome with the need to hug his Mom. Struggling to sit up, he gratefully accepted his mother's help and then surrendered to her warm embrace, wrapping his own long arms around her fiercely. Burying his face in his Mom's shoulder, he breathed in as deeply as he could; inhaling the long remembered scent that had always meant safety and love.

Seeing Chris feebly trying to sit up, Margaret hastened to help him and was surprised when her grown son burrowed into her arms as though he were still a child. Once she had her arms around him though, it seemed only natural to clasp him to her chest and hold him tight, regardless of the fact that he was an adult now. Motherly love bloomed in her heart, as memories of all the times she'd held her boy over the course of his life flooded through her mind. She held him close for all the times in the past that she'd wanted to hold him and protect him from a cruel world, but couldn't due to the distance and circumstances. Holding his head to her shoulder, she stroked his hair tenderly before pressing a kiss to his blond locks and laying her cheek there.

Buck had come to his senses and nudged JD to indicate that the kid should give the Larabees some semblance of privacy by resuming the spoon-feeding and stop gawping at the reunion beside them. As much as Buck hated being fed like a helpless child, he had acknowledged quite quickly that his shaking hands weren't going to get much soup into his mouth and he was hungry for the first time in a week. Watching JD avidly, he waited for the next mouthful of the delicious broth left by Miss Adelia. If this sat well, Ezra had promised him one of the light, fluffy biscuits.

"I am so sorry about Sarah and Adam, CJ. So very sorry. I felt like I knew them from Sarah's letters and the photograph she sent and when we got Buck's letter telling us…" whispered Margaret, pausing to swallow her tears and hold her boy just that little bit tighter, determined to say what she had wanted to say years ago. "When I read Buck's letter, my heart was torn apart. I wanted to come to you then, but you'd moved and no-one knew where you'd gone. I'm sorry I couldn't be with you when you needed me the most. But you've always been in my heart and my thoughts though, my son. Always in my prayers."

The old grief rose up in Chris at his mother's words but, unlike before his cathartic breakdown in the jail with Ezra, he didn't mask it with anger. Tears fell as he nodded against his mother's shoulder and one; broken word was wrenched from his constricted throat.

"Mom!"

Everyone present heard the underlying meanings contained within that tiny word, issued plaintively by a bereft son to the first woman to capture his heart and hold it forever.

Mom – it hurts.

Mom – make it better.

Mom – help me.

Mom – don't let me go.

Mom – please.

Heart breaking at the plea from her son, Margaret started rocking with Chris still in her arms, murmuring nonsense words as she tried to wrap herself around him protectively. Chris had always been such a strong child, in both will and deed. She couldn't remember a time when he'd cried in her arms like this; not since he was a toddler and his grandfather's old dog had died. Her husband had found them, as they sat cuddled together on the old swing seat on the porch, and told her sternly not to coddle the boy. Margaret still remembered how her sweet son had stiffened in her arms, drawing away from her as James had lectured her against turning the boy into a sissy. How Chris had wiped his eyes roughly on his sleeves, when he'd heard James ranting about how men don't cry. How her baby boy had slid off her lap and stood tall in front of his father, distracting the man from his diatribe with a childish version of the now infamous Larabee glare. At the grand old age of four years old, Christopher had moved from babyhood to childhood and learned to repress his emotions, but not to protect himself. No, her baby boy had learned to hide his own pain in an effort to prevent hers.

Vin and Ezra sat on the other side of the room, watching their older brother connect with his mother with hearts full of sympathy and a touch of envy. Memories of times when his mothers, both birth and adoptive, would rock him to soothe away tears flooded back to Vin. Sniffling as his eyes prickled, he turned to Ezra with glistening blue eyes, finding that the gambler was looking just as wistful as he felt.

Sensing Vin's observation, the Southerner turned to find Vin's soulful, sky blue eyes staring at him imploringly. Correctly interpreting Vin's look, Ezra helped his stiff and sore brother turn onto his side, propping pillows in here and there to help his battered body lie more comfortable. Making sure that Vin was warm enough by adding another blanket to the pile of blankets and quilts already over his thin-blooded brother, Ezra then resumed his seat beside the bed and reached for the book that he'd been reading.

Having finished the broth and had his chin mopped, Buck had promptly snuggled back down in the comfortable bed and fallen asleep thinking how much nicer recuperation was at the new clinic. The old clinic's bed had sagged and there had been a peculiar odour about it that had never gone away, despite changing the mattress stuffing and washing the cover repeatedly. Of course, it was warmer in the new clinic too, with no drafts blowing through walls and floorboards and the heat flowing from the stove in the corner. The bedding was laundered regularly and dried in the open air with bunches of lavender, giving them a sweet smell. Yessir, as unpleasant as being ill was, it made a man feel much better to be cuddled up in a nice bed. Smirking, Buck's mind drifted to other nice beds he'd experienced and the bedmates associated with them.

JD sat in the very comfortable chair next to Buck's slumbering form, watching the big man's moustache twitch with undoubtedly salacious thoughts and drowsily listened to the dulcet tones of the Southerner as he read to Vin. Careful not to be obvious, he darted his eyes towards Chris and his mother who remained locked in each other's arms, reconnecting and renewing the mother/son bond. Unable to hear actual words, he could hear Margaret Larabee's whispers and Chris' occasional rumbling responses. Sniffing back tears as memories of his own Mama came to mind, JD tried to focus on the story.

Turning his face to the side, Chris coughed and mumbled, "I'm sorry, Mom."

Rubbing her son's broad back, Margaret nodded her thanks to Ezra who had appeared with a small blanket to wrap around Chris as he continued to lean into her. At his faint apology, she frowned a little and asked softly, "Sorry for what, son?"

Bracing himself to be chastised and possibly rejected, the sick man took a breath and whispered, "I ain't exactly been a man to be proud of the last few years, Mom. I… I been drunk more'n I've been sober n' I'm a mean drunk. I've k-killed more'n my share of men. Some I was hired to kill, some called me out, but some… some just got in the way of my next drink or looked at me wrong when I was hungover. I'd see men with their wives and sons and j… just saw red. Why did they get to keep their families when I'd had mine taken away? I was angry, Mom. I was real angry for a long while. I hurt Buck, Mom. With my fists and my words. I…"

Tears welled in Margaret's eyes as her boy confessed his sins to her. The rumours of the gunslinger Chris Larabee were obviously true, or at least based on fact. Anger swelled in her chest as she thought of her husband's hurtful lesson to the boy and how Chris had been denied the tools of coping with his grief by the same lesson. If only he had felt free to rage and cry, purging the grief at the time of his loss, he may not have so many souls on his conscience. When Chris choked to a stop and lay against her in silence, trembling violently, she realised he was waiting for her to condemn him.

"CJ, I can't say that I'm not disappointed by your actions," started Margaret, gathering Chris into a tighter embrace when he started to pull away from her, "But I'm your Momma. Nothing you do or say will ever make me love you less. I just thank the Lord that you've found your way through and ended up here, safe and whole in my arms. For a lot of years, I thought you may have joined Sarah and Adam."

"I wanted to. God, how I wanted to. But Buck was always there to stop me doing something too stupid. He wouldn't let me go, Mom. I'd have been dead a hundred times over if it weren't for Buck."

Gazing over at the sleeping form of Buck Wilmington, Margaret sent up a fervent prayer of thanks to God and Buck's Ma for the big man's presence in her son's life.

"I always knew there was a good heart beating under that rascal's hairy chest," chuckled Margaret, dropping a kiss on Chris' head. Overwhelmed at the thought of how close she'd come to never having him in her arms again, she crooned, "My boy. My precious boy."

More tears fell at his mother's words, soaking into the already drenched shawl beneath Chris' cheek.


	10. Chapter 10

**Finally, the last chapter. Really not where I was going with this but it had to end somewhere. Sorry for the delay and thank you for all the reviews.**

Chris was trying to read in bed, but his illness had left his eyes weak and his book mostly lay open in his lap. Instead he spent his time gazing at his mother, committing her face to memory, as she sat beside him knitting quietly. They'd had many whispered conversations over the past two days, catching up on each other's lives, as well as the lives of his sisters and their families. Laughter and tears had brought them back to the same closeness they'd shared before he left home and he relished it, smiling more than he had in years.

"What have you done to yourself, boy?"

Ezra jerked awake in the chair beside Vin, where he had been enjoying a light doze, reaching for his gun only to see Ms Nettie standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips and a cross look on her face. Turning at hearing a muffled snicker, he saw Buck sitting up in bed with Inez perched on the chair beside him.

Buck and Chris had been given baths in front of the fire that morning, along with a shave, so the lanky gunman was feeling rather chipper as he sat with his hand being held by his lady love. A deep cough that still shook him to the core sporadically was the only sign he had that he'd been so deathly ill. In fact, both Nathan and Archie agreed that he and Chris could go back to their own rooms the next day and start working light duties the day after that, if they swore to continue taking Nathan's tea. Up until today, he could honestly say that he hadn't minded his confinement as he'd been far too sick and tired to want to do anything more than sleep. But now he was starting to feel better, Buck found he missed the conviviality of being out and amongst different people. Mostly, he was looking forward to escorting Inez to dinner at the restaurant and maybe taking her on a picnic, when the weather warmed up. A few of his lady friends had tried to visit him when they heard the quarantine had been lifted, but Ezra had quietly told them that he was still too ill. The smooth southerner had also worked into each conversation the fact that he was now all but betrothed to Inez. Fortunately, they all took it in good grace, but then he'd never made them any promises.

JD and Josiah were still doing the bulk of the patrolling in and around town, although it had been miraculously quiet. A number of local men had stepped forward to volunteer for some patrols, wanting to help out their peacekeepers in their hour of need. Josiah and JD had accepted gratefully, glad to have the extra man power with three of their number ill or injured, another tending to them and yet another out of town at the Seminole village.

Nathan had spent a couple of days with Rain at the Seminole Village, before visiting with his sister and her family on the way back. Feeling refreshed and revitalised, he had checked on Chris, Buck and Vin before catching up with Archie and doing the rounds of people who needed tending. The kindly doctor was still keeping his distance from the patients, due to their compromised lungs and his very contagious disease, but Nathan returned to the clinic to spell Ezra on occasion. As the men improved, they didn't really need the constant presence of one of the medically trained, but Nathan and Ezra felt better if one of them stayed in the clinic.

Chris smiled at seeing his younger brother turn red and try to hide in the blankets at Ms Nettie's question. Seeing the wide, blue eyes peering innocently through a fringe of shaggy hair, over the edge of the blankets that had been drawn up to the tracker's nose, the older man's smile turned in to a warm chuckle. Knowing that the old rancher loved Vin like a son, he wasn't too worried about her intentions, but nonetheless decided to head her off at the pass and spare his young friend a scolding.

"Ms Nettie," called the handsome blond, "I'd like to introduce you to my mother, Margaret Larabee."

Distracted from her scrutiny of the squirming tracker's visible injuries, Nettie switched her gaze to the austere woman sitting beside Chris Larabee. She'd heard tell from Gloria that the moody gunslinger's mother was in town and had been eager to meet her. After all, Chris was a formidable man who usually meant that a strong woman had raised him and Nettie was always willing to talk to like-minded women. Walking briskly across the room, the old rancher reached out a work-roughened hand, stating gruffly, "Nettie Wells. Pleased to meet you, Mrs Larabee."

Rising to her feet, Margaret smiled as her hand was grasped firmly and shaken. Nettie Wells was an independent, pioneering woman not unlike many of her friends back home. Having heard stories from her son and his friends, she knew that Nettie was destined to be her newest friend. It was a comfort to know that Chris would have a motherly influence in his life once she herself had been forced to return to Indiana. Hazel eyes twinkling, Margaret replied, "It's a pleasure to meet you too. The boys speak highly of you, Mrs Wells."

A slight blush warmed Nettie's weathered cheeks as she gazed around fondly at the 'boys' around her, stating gruffly, "Well now. They're good boys. Mostly."

Ezra chuckled and looked down at the cards he was shuffling, after the 'wizened crone' winked at him when she added the last word.

"May as well call me Nettie. If you're going to be one of the ones helping to keep this lot on their toes, then there's no point standing on ceremony. You can be proud of this one. He and the others have turned this town around. Used to be a body was afraid to come to town for fear of having their possessions or even their life stolen by some low life scum. But since the seven have been here, we're almost heading towards civilised" added Nettie with some pride, pushing her hand under the thick blond hair to lay it on Chris' brow and nodding her approval at the lack of fever. "You've lost weight you couldn't afford, Mr Larabee. Best do something about that, son."

Margaret smiled as the gruff woman laid a tender hand on her son, which was tolerated with admirable restraint by Chris who was obviously used to letting the old rancher have her way. Seeing his mother's smile, Chris rolled his eyes and gave her a little half smile, knowing what she was thinking. Chuckling behind her hand, Margaret remembered being on the receiving end of that same look whenever he had been tolerating his sisters' displays of affection as a teenager.

Moving to Buck, Nettie repeated the motion and smiled again at the normal temperature under her hand. Giving Buck's earlobe a quick but gentle warning squeeze in response to his flirtatious grin and wink, she let her eyes wander as she assessed how much weight the already lean but muscular man had lost. Too much was the answer and she determined to start cooking and baking up some of their favourites as soon as possible, even though she knew that half the women in town would be doing the same. Her smile widened at the sight of Buck and Inez's entwined and she exclaimed, "Stars and garters! Don't tell me that the two of you have finally stopped dancing around each other and come to an agreement."

Blushing fiercely, Inez nonetheless lifted her chin defiantly and replied, "We have, Senora. Buck has finally agreed to court me and only me, so I have agreed to accept his affections."

Grunting her approval at the devotion shining from Buck's eyes as he turned to gaze at his pretty senorita and the love shining back at him from the large, dark eyes of Inez, Nettie grumbled, "'Bout time. Be a relief to every father, brother, husband and intended in the land to know that they can lay down their shotguns and have their womenfolk's' virtues remain intact. Now, if I could just get that gadabout boy to declare his intentions of courting my tomboy niece, I could rest easy."

Highly amused by the crusty old rancher and her forthright proclamations about the love lives of the peacekeepers, Margaret asked softly, "JD?"

"Yup. JD and Casey carry on like a pair of kids, Mom. They race their horses, climb trees, challenge each other to spitting contests with watermelon seeds, go fishing together…" explained Chris, a fond smile lighting his face. "I'm not sure JD even realises that Casey's a girl."

"I've tried to point the kid in the right direction, but he just won't pay me no mind," complained Buck, assuming an expression of great disgust at his young friend's cluelessness.

Arching her eyebrow and poking a sharp finger into her beloved's side, Inez playfully growled, "Given how long it took you to find the right direction, cariño, I'm not surprised JD isn't listening to you."

Everyone laughed as Buck tried to assume a wounded expression, only to burst into his joyful laugh before kissing the back of Inez's hand. "Can't argue with you there, darlin'."

"Believe me when I say, JD is now fully cognisant of Miss Casey's feminine appeal. It took him a while, true, but then it was a touch difficult to see them when the lady in question was covered in dirt and overalls for a good part of their acquaintance. No bad thing, really, as it enabled them to get to know one another as friends before taking the leap into a romantic attachment. Something that will only strengthen a life bond, rather than hinder it," defended Ezra, feeling that the boy was not wholly to blame.

Having drifted over to Vin's bed, Nettie brushed her fingers through the tangled curls of her boy, surreptitiously checking his temperature at the same time. Smiling at the sweet, shy smile directed her way, along with the glowing blue eyes, Nettie lifted an eyebrow at the gambler and asked, "Just how 'fully cognisant' is the boy of my niece's 'feminine appeal', Fancy Pants?"

Flustered at her implication, Ezra reddened and replied hastily, "Her virtue is quite safe I assure you, Ms Nettie. You should know that JD is an honest and honourable lad and would never press his attentions in an unchaste way…"

Laughing at his flustered brother, Vin teased, "You's in trouble now, Ez. Best be glad Ms Nettie left her ole Spencer on the wagon."

Glaring at Vin, Ezra then assumed a sheepish expression as he turned back to Nettie, saying, "I humbly apologise, if I implied anything that would impugn Miss Casey's honour. I certainly meant no offense to the dear girl."

"Oh go on, Ezra, we're just joshing you. I know how highly you think of my Casey. She thinks the world of you, too, 'specially after you bought her that nice dress and taught her to dance and all. I freely admit that my manners are a bit rough and ready after living on the ranch my whole life surrounded by men, so it's good of you to teach her some of the fancy things she needs to know in nice company," soothed Nettie, seeing that Ezra was feeling uncomfortable. "Casey told me they came in right handy when she went back East to visit her Aunt a while back. Said she'd have felt all sorts of awkward if she hadn't had her lessons with you to fall back on."

Vin, Buck and Chris all looked at Ezra proudly as the southern gentleman blushed and looked down at the cards he clutched in his hands, embarrassed by the praise.

"I'm pleased I could be of some small service to Miss Casey and yourself, Ms Nettie," murmured Ezra, desperately wishing they'd find something else to talk about. He was never comfortable being thanked for things he did.

Seeing the gambler's embarrassment and turning her attention back to the young tracker, Nettie pursed her lips as she traced her finger lightly over the bruising on her adopted son's face and announced, "Speaking of JD and his intentions, it's about time we got you a wife too, Vin. Someone with a level head to keep you out of the trouble that seems determined to follow you around."

Memories of expressive eyes, sweet lips and loving arms engulfed Vin and he automatically rolled away from Nettie and his pain to face Ezra as the agony of loss filled him, hiding his face in his pillow.

Seeing Vin's expression fill with pain before closing up, Ezra leaned forward and shook his head at Nettie's quizzical look, laying his hand on the side of Vin's head in a soothing gesture.

Margaret looked up from her knitting at the sudden silence. Seeing the way Ezra was trying to comfort Vin, she guessed that the topic of marriage was a hurtful one to the shaggy-haired tracker. To change the subject, she stated enquiringly, "I was told that Nathan was sparking a lovely girl at an Indian village outside town?"

Ezra lightly rubbed his thumb over Vin's bruised cheek one last time before giving up his seat, gesturing for Nettie to come sit beside Vin and visit now he was calmer. The Texan lay quietly with his eyes closed, avoiding Nettie's sharp gaze, as he tried to stuff his pain back into the box he kept it in. Huffing, Nettie settled in the chair taking hold of Vin's hand, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles lightly as she worried about what had upset him so. Vin returned her grip firmly, welcoming the warmth of human touch in his efforts to stay in the present, rather than sinking into his turbulent past.

Gracefully moving around the clinic, the gambler tidied and fussed over things as he responded, "Yes, her name is Rain Eban and she is a lovely woman, both in looks and nature. She will make an excellent wife for Nathan, matching him in temperament and outlook, but they are waiting on any serious commitment until after Nathan has his medical diploma. Once he becomes Dr Jackson, I believe we shall be getting invitations for their nuptials."

"Gloria was telling me that she and Josiah have started stepping out," added Nettie, moving her other hand to lightly stroke Vin's hair off his face. She was worried about the shadows she'd seen in her boy's eyes after she'd mentioned getting him a girl. Maybe it was too soon after the whole fiasco with that married hussy on the wagon train. Dear lord, she hoped he wasn't still carrying a torch for her.

A pleased smile stretched across Ezra's face as he confirmed, "That is true. I confess to having given Josiah a nudge in that direction. They are also a good match in temperament and I believe that they will do an admirable job of raising Josh and Beth up into adulthood. Josiah's taste in women when left to his own devices has only resulted in pain for him, so I felt it fell on me to steer him away from the danger of my own dear mother and toward the safe and loving arms of Gloria Potter. That lady is truly a prize to be sought, what with her abilities as a homemaker, a mother and a business woman. You won't see Mrs Potter resorting to histrionics should Josiah be called away or incapacitated in the course of his duties. No sir, there is a woman to stand beside her man as an equal partner in marriage, staunch and true. As to Josiah, well, Mrs Potter could do no better in searching for a father to guide her young children to adulthood, nor a stronger protector for herself and her family, or a more faithful, loving and loyal husband. "

""It's good to see her putting away her widow's black. Gloria's too young to shut away her heart and those young'uns need a Pa. What about you, Fancy Pants? Have you got your eye on any young ladies?"

For the second time, Nettie watched as one of her young friends shut down at the mention of a relationship. A seed of suspicion started to winkle its way into her mind as she looked at first Ezra and then Vin. Then she snorted and told herself to stop being so foolish.

"Unfortunately, my heart belongs to my late wife, Ms Nettie. I can honestly say that I am content to wait for female companionship until I join my dear Emmaline in the hereafter. As to Vin and Chris, I believe that they too are content to remain solitary, due to their own tragic bereavements," explained Ezra sombrely, seeing that leaving the woman with no explanation would only lead to speculation and further match making. As much as the three men preferred to keep their losses to themselves, it was only right that their nearest and dearest should know. "That may or may not change in the future, for any or all of us, but for the moment our hearts belong exclusively to those who were violently wrenched from us far too soon."

Standing at the stove, blinking furiously to dispel his tears and hoping to blame the meagre smoke from embers for the way his voice had ended in a croak, Ezra swallowed harshly to clear his suddenly clogged throat. Unknown to him, Adelia had entered via the back door with a tray of food for the convalescents. Starting as he felt warm arms circle his waist, he soon turned and melted into his friend's loving embrace, muttering, "I'm alright, really."

"Sho you are, white boy, and I'm the Queen of France," answered Adelia tartly, clutching her friend to her as tightly as she could.

Nettie's chest tightened with remembered grief of when her husband passed long ago as she watched Ezra being comforted by his friend. Feeling her hand being squeezed, she looked down into Vin's glistening eyes.

"Ez's wife 'n their son and daughter was murdered a while back," whispered Vin to Nettie, his voice raspier than usual with suppressed emotion. "M…My w-wife 'n our unborn b-baby was killed by soldiers. Cain't take another wife yet, Ms Nettie. Not while ma heart still yearns fer Nakoma. Tried ta fergit wit' Charlotte, but jist felt wrong all ways 'round. Best I's on ma own fer now."

Leaning forward and gathering Vin into her arms, Nettie held her boy to her breast fiercely. Feeling his hot tears soak into her shirt, she growled, "Don't you pay me no mind, boy. I'm just a foolish old woman who's forgotten what it's like when the loss is still new and raw. Take all the time you need. If something's meant to happen, it'll happen when you're ready and not before. That goes for the two of you too."

Chris nodded curtly, mouth a thin line as he sat in bed with clenched fists.

Margaret sighed sadly as the tragic histories of the two younger men were revealed and reached for Chris' hand, unfurling it from the clenched fist and curling her fingers around it with a gentle squeeze.

Buck had filled Inez in, his voice low and confiding. The pretty woman now sat with her hand over her mouth in horror, tears poised tremulously on her lower lashes and heart aching for her friends.

Sniffing delicately, Ezra pressed his cheek to Adelia's for a moment before standing up straight. Taking a deep breath, he held it a moment before blowing it out and shaking himself. Looking around the room and sensing the pall of grief that had fallen over it, he announced, "Well, this just won't do. I don't know what Sarah and Nakoma would say, but my Emmaline would kick my shins for carrying on this way when we have so much to celebrate. Chris and Buck have survived their brush with death and will soon be fit and hale. Vin has survived his slide on the ice. Four of our number have flourishing relationships that need an opportunity to shine. Winter is nearly over and Spring, the season of new beginnings, is almost upon us. I believe that a party is called for, don't you? I think we should have a dance, so that Buck and Inez can celebrate their new agreement. I'm sure that Josiah would appreciate an opportunity to dance with Mrs Potter. JD and Miss Casey surely need the practice of courting in civilised surroundings. Then there's Nathan and Miss Rain… Yes, I do declare that we should hold some sort of social occasion. I may even make it a monthly event. People need something to look forward to when times are hard. As for the three of us, Vin and Chris, there's pie and entertaining all the delightful chillum with stories and magic tricks. I'm sure that we can convince all the townswomen to provide some tasty morsels. I shall provide some liquid refreshments. The band would love an opportunity to shine again…"

Margaret leaned towards her son and whispered, "Is he always like this?"

Smiling fondly at his gregarious brother as he whirled around the room espousing the benefits of a regular town soiree, Chris grinned widely and replied, "Yup and we wouldn't have it any other way."

Fin.


End file.
